Raph Country
by Mikell
Summary: Injured and alone, Raphael's lost in the wilderness of the Upstate woodlands. Will he be able to make his way back home again? And how will he survive the insane family hunting him until he does? COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1 The Discovery

* * *

** A/N: I am dedicating this ENTIRE FIC to _Raphfreak_. It is the offspring of one of her rabid plot bunnies, which she heartlessly threw at me... errr, I mean, so generously shared. ;)**

**Thanks to _Raphfreak_, and also to _54Viruses_ for beta-reading. _Raphfreak_, you are the fount from which ideas and inspiration flow (come floating to the surface like something long buried in the sediment...) LOL, and _54Viruses_, you are the epitome of grammar, continuity and comma helpfulness. **

**And thanks again to the many faithful readers and reviewers. You guys ALL rock. **

**No warnings for this fic, except some relatively minor T-rated language and some gore. No Hamato-and-friends deaths of course and, as always, a happy ending is promised.  
(HA I took two extra commas out of this sentence, Tammy!) LOL  
**

**Reviews are loved, and I will respond to signed reviews.  
Raph will use flames to roast marshmellows, and possibly flamers, depending on his mood. ;)  
**

**

* * *

**_Chapter 1 -The Discovery-  
~~~_

Juan Mendez liked Billy Jo Roberts all right. He liked his funny Upstate accent. He liked the way he yelled "Woooo-ee!" when he got excited. He especially liked the kid when he had a little money and was in the mood to party, which was most of the time. But most of all, he liked Billy Jo's stories about hunting, about the woods, about how it wasn't such a big deal that Juan's brother had shot a man, because it wasn't so very different from shooting a deer, which Billy Jo had done himself dozens of times, growing up in the farm country upstate.

Billy Jo seemed to come from a different planet to Juan and he thought, someday, when his brother was out of jail, when Mama was better and when his little sister was old enough to be married and have babies of her own, some day Juan wanted to visit that planet. The way Billy Jo talked, where he grew up, everybody had guns, but they had better things to shoot at than each other.

The girls were pretty and liked a good man, a strong man who would take care of them. He would be respected for his prowess in a fight, not be called a punk, chased down by the cops with their cold stares and handcuffs. Yes, Billy Jo's world was one Juan wanted to visit one day. He just didn't know the day would come so soon, or that it would be quite such a strange and wild ride.

The night didn't start out differently than any other night. They hit a few bars, met a few girls. Billy, with his blond hair and blue eyes, even got a couple phone numbers. Juan got drunk. Billy Jo wasn't far behind him. Four AM found them cruising down Hollywood Boulevard, bored and looking for something to do. The streets were relatively quiet. The city never truly slept, but it took cat-naps at times and this was one of those times. When Billy Jo swerved to the side of the road, putting the car's tires up on the curb, Juan shot him a sullen, annoyed look.

"Hey, Billy, whatcha doin, _amigo_?" he drawled.

"I t'ought I saw somefin." Billy's words slurred and he squinted, staring into the alley.

"Ya saw the bottom of a tequila bottle," said Juan, smirking.

"No. No, man, I thought I saw somebody layin' down in the alley. Takin' a nap. Let's go see."

Juan shook his head. "Nah, it's just some bum."

"No, man, it's weird, but… Just come on. I thought I saw somethin' weird."

"You go, man. I'm not messin' with no bum."

Billy jumped out of the truck. Juan watched his friend, laughing to himself. Billy'd had too much to drink. He was acting funny, even walking differently, on the balls of his feet. Juan couldn't hear his footsteps through his open window. Billy stalked into the alley. This would be _mui_ funny to tease him about tomorrow.

"Holy… Juan, come here! You gotta see dis t'ing!"

"What'd you find, Billy? Another bottle of tequila? Better leave it alone, you've had enough," teased Juan, opening his door. He staggered a little as his feet found the pavement, but managed not to fall. He walked down the alley toward his friend. Billy was standing over something in the alley, staring at it, his face white. Juan looked down at the huddled bundle on the ground and recoiled. There was blood pooling around the fallen body.

"He's dead, Billy. Come on, _muchacho_. Come away. He's just a bum. Somebody bashed his head in, is all. Come away, now and let the _policia_ deal with it."

"No, Juan, _look_."

"I don't wanna see no dead guy's brains. It's bad luck," said Juan, trying a weak joke. "Makes you puke." But he leaned over and looked. He fell back, swearing and crossing himself. "What… what… what _is_ dat, man?" he cried, suddenly dangerously close to sober.

"I… I t'ink it's a… turtle," whispered Billy. He leaned down and grabbed the thing's hand. "It's cold. I think it's dead."

"Billy, man, don't _touch_ it!"

"I never saw one dis big," said Billy. "Chill, dude, it's just a dead turtle."

"Yeah, well, I hear of these turtles. There are more. They're crazy, fightin' wit' da Dragons, an' _winnin'_. An' if we don't get outta here, they'll come and t'ink we killed dis one. Let's go."

"No, wait. I know a guy… Juan, this one's already dead, right? An' we got the car right here. Let's take it. I know a guy, back home, he'd pay good money for this thing."

"What?"

"Mr. Reeds, he's a taxidermist. He shoots animals and mounts 'em. Sometimes he does mounts for other people, too. He likes weird stuff. He'd pay a fortune for this thing. Come on, help me get it in the car."

"Oh, no, man, I ain't touchin' dat t'ing." Juan shuddered, backing away.

"Come on, Juan, don't be such a baby. You want to pay for your ma's medicine or not? I'm tellin' ya, this thing is worth a fortune. All we gotta do is get it to him. We could be there tonight and come back tomorrow."

"It's worth that much?" Juan thought of the expensive little pills his mother needed and the hours she'd spent crying last night after talking to that man from the insurance company.

"Yeah, it's worth thousands. I'm sure of it."

"Well… Ok." He grabbed the thing's shell, avoiding touching its skin. It was wrapped in a trench coat, which made it easier to ignore the blood and the weird shape of its hands and feet. They heaved it into the back seat of Billy's car. Billy had to come around and tuck its legs in. Juan wasn't about to touch it. It made his skin crawl just to look at it.

Billy rubbed his hands on his jeans, wiping the blood off without so much as a second thought. "We're gonna be rich, Juan. You'll see."

"Enough to pay for Mama's medicine," said Juan softly.

"More than enough, bro." Billy put his hand on Juan's shoulder.

Juan looked into the clear blue eyes. "Ok. Let's go." he said. The boys climbed into the front seat and rolled away.

"Billy, dis t'ing's gonna stink. We can't go all da way Upstate wit' it in your car," said Juan. "What if somebody sees it?" _Besides, I don't wanna be in da front seat o' dis little car wit' it right behind us for six hours._

"Well, what about your brother's truck?"

"I can get da keys," said Juan. "But we can't tell Mama. She shouldn't get upset."

"Well, let's just tell her we're goin' to visit my sister. You know she likes Jo."

Juan blushed. "Yeah. She likes her ok." Johanna had come for a visit last summer. Mamma had been taken with her. Juan liked her blond hair and blue eyes, but there was something hard, something cold about her. She lacked the softness he liked in a woman. He liked less sass and more curves in a girl.

Billy pulled up at Juan's place and Juan ran up, taking the stairs two at a time. Mamma was still awake, as he'd known she would be. She didn't sleep much at all these days and she'd never slept when he was out with Billy. She waited. She always waited.

"Mamma." he kissed her cheek and met her sharp dark eyes.

"Where you been?" she asked. The tired lack of accusation in her voice was almost worse than if she'd shouted at him for coming in so late.

"I was with Billy, Mamma. He's homesick. He misses his family. We're gonna drive upstate tonight, ok? He wants to see his sister. She's leavin' tomorrow, he wants to see her before she goes back to college, ok? Can we take Jose's truck?"

"You gonna see that nice girl?" Rosita's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, Mamma." Juan's heart twisted, just a little, with the lie, but he thought of his Mamma's medicine to ease his conscience. "So, can we take the truck?"

"_Si_, darling. Drive slowly. Be careful and come home safe to me."

"We will, Mamma. We will. I love you." Juan grabbed the keys and dashed down the stairs to where Billy was waiting. He already had the turtle-thing in the back of the truck, the doors closed. Juan tossed him the keys and they drove off, carrying Raphael away from the city, away from his family, away from his home.

_I hope this thing is worth the money,_ thought Juan. _Mamma needs her pills._

***

Raphael's eyes flickered and he moaned.

_Shell, my leg _hurts._ Guess I shouldn'ta jumped down on dat Purple Dragon from da fire escape. Wait a minute… where da shell am I? Feels like I'm movin'. A truck? But I ain't tied up. What's goin' on? I gotta get outta here._

He sat up._Whoa._ He threw out his hands, fear surging. _Felt like da truck was tippin' over for a minute. Guess dat bat hit my head pretty hard. Wonder if I got a concussion. I'm pro'ably lucky if dat's all I got. Donny'll have me in bed for a week._

Raph smiled at the mental image of his brother's scowl. _Guess I oughta quit givin' him so much to worry about. He's turnin' into a regular Leo. He'll give 'imself an ulcer. Let's see… how do I get outta here?_

Raph staggered to his feet, but fell flat on his shell again as the truck slowed suddenly. _Shell. Better get outta here 'fore somebody decides to check on da cargo. Lose the coat, it's hard to fight in it… Hey, I've still got my sais. Not too bright, are they? Ah, here's da latch._

He popped the small lever up with a loud click and the door swung open. Raphael tipped forward and felt himself falling. Instinctively, he tucked his head and put out his arms, rolling in a somersault to break his fall. He hissed with pain as the rough pavement scraped skin from his forearms. He rolled to the left, out of the road.

_Oh shell! _

He'd rolled right over an edge and he was falling, rolling, tumbling. He grabbed at the tufts of grass brushing his arms and legs, slowing his fall and crashed to a halt, winded, bruised, scratched and bleeding, at the bottom of the steep embankment.

_Shell, dat hurts._ He clutched his thigh, gritting his teeth against a hiss of pain. Blood seeped through his fingers and he felt a sharp stinging as he explored the edges of the gaping wound. Pulling off his arm-bands, he pushed the edges of the wound together and knotted the silk bands over his thigh. He heard voices from the roadway above and froze, listening.

"Hey, Juan, it's gone!"

"What? Where could it go?"

"It musta fell out. We gotta go back."

Juan swore.

"Wait, is that blood?" The first voice was calmer, not as panicked as Juan's. Raph cursed silently.

"Billy, Dude, it was dead," said Juan.

"Yeah, but here's a blood spot. An' it's gone. I don't think it was dead."

"We gotta get outta here!" Juan's voice was rising.

_Good,_ thought Raph. _Dat one's scared. Mebbe they'll just go away._

"No, man, we've gotta find it," insisted Billy.

_Damn. Ya don't wanna find me, Kid._

"Are you nuts? We gotta get outta here 'fore _it_ finds _us._" Juan sounded ready to run.

Billy ignored his friend's growing panic. "I'll get a light."

Raph's hands tightened on his sais, a low growl rumbling in his throat. They sounded like kids and not-very-bright kids at that. He didn't want to have to kill them.

"Are you _loco_?" Juan's voice went high with nerves. "I'm not goin' lookin' fer dat t'ing out here in da dark! If it's alive, it's gonna be _pissed_!"

Car tires crunched on the gravel and a door shrank lower into the brush as a new voice spoke."Everything ok here, boys?"

"Oh, sure, Officer," replied Billy. "The back door swung open when we stopped for the light, see? We stopped to close it and make sure it's secure this time."

"Looks like your latch popped. You boys making a delivery?" The cop sounded amused rather than suspicious.

"No, Sir, see, it's empty." Raph saw a flash of light as the boy swung the flashlight around. "We're just goin' to visit my sister in Owego. She's leavin' for college tomorrow."

"Ok, well, now that door is latched tight. You boys have a good night.'

"You too, Officer and thanks." The car door slammed again. Raph heard the boys messing around with the truck doors.

"We'll come back in the morning." He heard Billy say. "We can crash at my Pa's place. He only lives about ten minutes from here. The thing was hurt pretty bad, it won't get far." He heard the doors slam and the truck's engine roar to life Gravel crunched and Raph caught a whiff of exhaust as they drove off.

_Good choice, boys,_ thought Raph with a smirk. _Guess I can't just lie here. I'll hafta get movin'. _He groaned, forcing himself to his feet and looked around. The first thing he noticed was a lack of streetlights. He looked up. The stars were dazzlingly bright. _Definitely not the city. How long was I out, anyway? _ He began to walk, staggered and fell, swearing as his injured leg collapsed under him. He lay still, shivering and sweating, for a while. _I can't just lay here. I gotta keep movin'. _He got up again and staggered forward. He made three half-hopping steps before the dirt crumbled out from under his feet and he pitched forward with a yell. Instead of crashing into dirt, rocks and leaves, he plunged into icy water, which filled his mouth, nose and throat.

Raph thrashed, lifting his head, instinctively gasping as he broke the surface. He coughed up the muddy water, spitting and choking as he gasped the cool air into his lungs. The current whirled, dragging him along down stream. He paddled, concentrating on keeping himself afloat, allowing the current to carry him along, as he made his way slowly toward the opposite shore.

_I gotta get outta dis water, it's too cold._ Already the shock of his injuries and the cold were dragging at his limbs, making them feel heavy, leaden. Raph paddled harder, until he felt sandy bottom under his feet. He dragged himself up onto the gritty shore, panting. _Got… to… keep… moving…_ He hauled himself forward, up and out of the water. He could barely feel his feet. Even his leg didn't hurt now- it was too numb to feel anything. _Donny's gonna kill me for gettin' my shell-cell wet, _was his last thought before the darkness claimed him.


	2. Chapter 2 Meet the Roberts

**A/N: Locust trees have thorns. Big ones.  
**

**

* * *

**_Chapter 2 -Meet the Roberts-  
~~~_

"I'm tellin' ya, Juan, we've gotta go back." Billy glared at his friend.

Juan shook his head emphatically. His butt was planted firmly on the battered couch, and he wasn't about to move until Billy agreed to go back to the city.  
"Billy, you are _loco_. We're gonna get killed searchin' fer dat t'ing. I tell you, if it lived, it's _mad_."

"Whatcha huntin', Billy?" Johanna Roberts sashayed into the room.

"Not'in. Not'in, Jo." Billy looked resentfully at his older sister. Juan noticed a glint in her blue eyes.

"Yer lyin'. I'll tell Pa," she sneered.

"No, Jo, I ain't huntin' not'in."

Juan jumped back as the tall girl tackled her brother, rolling him off the couch and sitting on his chest. She punched his shoulder with a wicked right jab. Juan laughed.

_Wonder what Mamma would think if she saw Johanna beatin' up on her brother,_ he thought. _Bet she wouldn't think she's such a "nice girl" if she could see this._

"Cut it out, Jo! Get off!" Billy heaved, swearing, but Jo sat tight, punching him again. Billy yelled in protest, squirming.

"Tell me, Billy."

"No! Get off!"

_Punch_. "Tell me."

"No!"

"Tell me!" The next punch caught Billy firmly across the jaw, making his head snap to the side. Juan gasped, jumping up from the couch.

"It's a turtle, Jo. I heard 'em talkin' about it las' night."

Juan looked over at Billy's younger brother, Cameron. He was about twelve, but small and skinny for his age. He was wearing one of Billy's old shirts; by the way it hung off him and a torn pair of blue jeans. He stood in the doorway, watching the fight with the same bright blue eyes as his siblings.

Juan frowned. _Why's he wearin' long sleeves? An' pants? It's warm today._

"A turtle, huh?" Johanna pulled back and smacked Billy, hard. Juan could see the dark red appear on his face almost before her hand cleared it. He'd had enough. He reached for Johanna. "Hey, get offa him, you crazy…"

"Ya leave my sister _alone!_" A flying bundle of rags crashed into Juan just as he grabbed Johanna's shoulder, knocking him back on to the couch.

"Cameron! Whatsa matter wit' you?" yelled Johanna, her blue eyes blazing. She stood up, letting Billy get to his feet. He glared at his sister. Blood dripped from his split lip.

"You kids quit yer rough-housin' out here!" Billy's father, Thomas, stood in the doorway, glowering. Juan edged behind the couch, instinctively avoiding the man's attention. One thing he knew about Billy's dad, he was _mean_.

"It was Cameron, Pa," sneered Johanna. "We were jus' playin' around and he jumped on Billy's friend."

"Is dat so, Cameron," his father asked, his hand straying to his belt buckle as he glowered at the boy.

Cameron shot a wounded look at his sister. "No! No, Sir. He was grabbin' Jo. I… I was defendin' her. Ya always say we should take care o' our sister!" The boy swallowed hard, his slight body trembling under his father's dark glare.

"You go wait outside fer me, boy," growled the man.

"Aw, Pa, we were jus' messin' around," Billy said. Thomas' glare swept his boy.

"Ya were lettin' yer sister beat ya up again, ya mean," he said with a sneer.

Juan watched out of the corner of his eye as Cameron slipped, unnoticed, from the room. _Funny how da kids all got kinda blond hair and blue eyes, and the ol' man's eyes an' hair are almost as dark as Mama's. _There was a defeated slump to the boy's shoulders and Juan noticed a bruise on his arm. _I wonder how often da old man beats up on 'im,_ he thought.

He cleared his throat nervously. "We… we oughta get goin' Billy," he said, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. "Mamma expects us back 'fore tonight."

"How's yer ma doin', boy?" Thomas' gravely voice made Juan twitch with nerves.

"She's doin' real good, Sir," he said quickly. "I look out fer her, now Jose's gone away fer a while."

"He shoulda never got sent up fer that guy," growled Thomas. "He couldn't help it if that guy jumped him. Sounds like da guy deserved what he got, I say."

"Yeah," said Juan half-heartedly, remembering his mother's grief at the trial and Jose's hard stare when the sentence was handed down.

"You boys better get goin'," said Thomas, taking off his belt. He strode toward the door. Juan winced.

"Yeah, yeah we gotta get goin'," he said. He wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Juan didn't want to hear the _slap_ of the leather, or the cries of the boy and he wanted to get away from Johanna.

"I'm goin' wit' ya." JoAnn stood with her hands on her hips, looking at Billy.

"No! We're goin' back ta da city, Jo, we ain't got time to bring you back here." Billy glared at his sister.

"I been wantin' ta visit Juan's ma again, anyhow. I'm goin'. You want I should tell Pa yer huntin' turtles?"

"No!" Billy went pale as they heard Thomas' shout from outside. "Jo, Pa don't need to know about dis. You ain't gonna tell him."

"Not if I go along. I want ta see dis big ol' snapper."

"Yeah. Yeah, it's just a snapper," said Billy, shooting Juan a warning look. "We hit it wit' da truck las' night. Juan an' me wanna go back an' see if we can find it."

"Well, I'm comin' too."

"No, Jo, I tol' ya, we ain't got time to drive you back."

"An' I tol' you, I'm comin'! You can't shoot anyway. I'll bring my rifle. We'll get yer turtle." Cold humor gleamed in Johanna's eyes. "Mebbe I'll even let ya tell Pa _you _shot it, so he don't get after ya wit' his belt."

Billy went several shades paler. "Come on, Juan. Let's go," he snapped. He strode into his bedroom. Juan followed, watching as Billy grabbed his .12 gauge shot gun and two boxes of shells and tossed them into a duffle.

By the time they got out to the truck, Johanna was sitting in the front passenger side. "Juan can ride in da back seat," she said with a grin. Juan didn't argue, just climbed into the cramped little seat in the back of the cab. Billy grunted and threw his bag in the back with Juan.

He climbed in and started down the driveway, stopping with a jerk as Thomas strode up to the truck. The man's face was dark red and twisted with fury. The belt dangled from his hand like a live thing, a snake, looking for something to strike.

"You seen Cameron out here? I tol' him ta wait fer me."

"No, Pa. He's proba'lly run off somewhere again. He'll come back," said Billy soothingly. The man scowled.

"He's in fer it when he does come back," he grumbled. "Boy's gotta learn ta take a lickin' like a man."

"Bye, Pa. We gotta go. Jo's goin' down ta visit Juan's ma, ok?"

"Yeah. You drive careful now wit' yer sister, ya hear?"

"Yes, Sir."

They pulled out of the driveway. Juan broke the tense silence. "You think da kid'll be alright, Billy?"

"Yeah, he takes off all the time. He'll hang out in da woods a couple days until the old man cools off, is all."

"He oughta just take his whippin'," said Johanna. "Pa'll be twice as hard on him 'cause he ran off."

"He'll be fine," said Billy firmly. "He's a smart kid. One o' these days he'll get bigger and stronger and Pa'd better look out then."

"Oh I'm sure Pa's real worried, seeing how you stand right up to him," jeered Johanna.

She didn't seem to notice the expression in her brother's eyes, but Juan felt a chill when he caught the look Billy shot her. It was the same as the look in Jose's eyes, just before the gun went off.

***

Raphael woke up to the loud buzzing of black flies, the sting of the too-hot sun on the back of his neck and the worst headache he'd ever had. He sat up, spitting the dry grit from his mouth and looked around. At least, he tried to look around. He swore and rubbed the grainy sand from his eyes. Finally he shook his head with a groan and sat up. Hearing the water behind him, he turned and crawled to it. He stuck his whole head in, rinsing the worst of the mud from his face and clearing his eyes. He longed to quench his thirst, but the muddy color of the water and the smell all around him discouraged him.

_Where da shell am I?_ He looked around, but across the river was only a grassy hill and behind him was thick vegetation. He lumbered to his feet, gasping in pain when he tried to put weight on his leg. Glancing down, he saw that the bands he'd tied around his leg were dry, but blood had soaked through, saturating them. _Dat's gonna be shell to pull off later,_ he thought. _It's probably scabbed right to the wound._ He groaned, wishing more than ever to be home and under his brother's less-than-tender medical care. _If I get an infection out here, I'm done for. Donny'd have some kinda medicine to pour on it and make it burn and kill off all da bacteria. Too bad Donny's not here._

He heard a car and crouched, scanning the horizon. He caught a glimpse of a reflection on chrome at the top of the hill. The car didn't so much as slow down, but Raph moved back into the brush, out of sight.

_Must be a highway, by da sound of those cars. I can't stay here. I'll have to get deeper in da woods, travel at night. If I follow da road, it's got to take me back to da city eventually._

Raph took a step and cursed as he felt blood seeping through the make-shift bandages and sharp pain shooting through his leg. _Great. Stuck out here an' I can't walk. I gotta keep movin'. Those kids from las' night'll be lookin' fer me. I've got to get away from da road. Too bad I don't carry a bo like Donny. I could use it like a walkin' stick._

Casting about, he found a sturdy-looking branch. He whittled it down to a manageable length with his sai and took a good grip… and dropped it.

_Shell! It's got thorns!_ Swearing, he snapped the thorns off with his sai blade. _What kinda tree has thorns, anyway? Stupid woods._

With the stick to lean on, he was able to make some progress through the thick brush. _What is dat smell? It's worse than da sewer in summer. _Stepping out of the brush and into some thick-bladed grass, he sank to his ankle in black, sucking mud. Raph swore again and backed up, wiping his foot disgustedly on the grass. The stench assaulted him. _Guess dat answers da question. It's dis mud dat stinks. Wow. How do da flies stand it? An' what do they eat when they can't get mutant turtle?!_

He turned and surveyed the landscape. He was well hidden from the road on this side of the tree line, but the swamp went on for what seemed like forever. _I can't travel through dis!_ he thought. _But I gotta get away from da road… I guess da only way left is da river._

He made his way back down the sandy slope and stepped into the river. _Whoa, it's cold… Well, might as well jump right in, get it over wit'. _Grasping his stick tightly and making sure his sais were securely in their holders, he waded into the water.

By keeping mostly submerged except for his eyes and nose, he was able to swim with some speed downstream. When the banks began to look grassy and the trees were right down to the water, Raph climbed out on shore. His leg was on fire now, aching and burning and the cold had sapped his strength. He also realized he was growing incredibly hungry and thirsty, but he still didn't dare touch the muddy river water.

He climbed up the bank and looked around. From where he was standing, the road was clearly visible. He took the few steps necessary to blend into the bushes and trees and crouched, considering.

_First t'ings first. I gotta find some water an' food. An' a safe place ta rest. I can't travel wit' my leg all chewed up. I'll hafta get some supplies. But how? I can't exac'ly walk inta da drug store. I'll figure somet'in out. Meanwhile, I gotta find water. Since water flows down, I oughta walk up dis hill, eventually I'll find a creek or somet'in._

Raph started making slow, painful progress up the hill. As he walked, the woods got thicker and the shade darker, until he was able to slip through the shadows invisibly. A bird squawked rudely at him, flitting from branch to branch just ahead of him. He ignored it, pressing forward. He'd traveled barely two miles when he heard the sound of rushing water.

By then his mouth was as dry as a paper bag and his throat was raw and parched. Raph picked his way over roots and rocks, following the tinkling sound of the water.

When he found the stream, it was barely a trickle, but he fell to his knees, ignoring the stabbing pain in his leg and stuck his beak in, sucking the water up greedily. It was cold and clear and to Raph, the best water he'd ever tasted. He drank until he could hold no more, then, groaning, got slowly to his feet. His leg was hurting fiercely now and he could feel fresh warmth seeping through the cloth.

_Ah shell, I've busted it open again. Better find someplace to rest soon. Mebbe I can build some kinda shelter._ He moved upstream, following the pitiful trickle. The country was rockier now, more difficult with his stiffening leg. He heard something snort and looked up. A doe was watching him with liquid brown eyes. Raph froze, watching her. He thought he'd never seen anything quite so graceful as those slender legs. She snorted again and turned, bounding away with her tail flashing white between the trees. Raph smiled grimly and kept moving.

He followed the deer's worn path simply because it was easier than plowing through the undergrowth and it roughly followed the stream. After a quarter of a mile more, the deer path veered to the left, while the stream went right. Raph stood, considering, for a long moment. _ Better stick to da water,_ he thought finally. With a sigh, he started shoving through the undergrowth. He broke through one particularly thick patch of brambles, swearing as the thorns tore at his skin and stopped dead in his tracks. About ten feet away, a small black animal was nibbling berries from a bush. Raph heard his stomach growl. He hadn't eaten anything since a couple slices of pizza for supper before he'd gone out on patrol and ended up fighting Purple Dragons. The growl came again, louder this time. _Shell, dat wasn't me._ Raphael turned slowly on his heel.

Standing some ten feet away, glaring at him with a hungry gaze, was a full-grown black bear. _It's a mamma,_ realized Raph in a rush. _What was it Don said about bears? Never get between a mom bear an' her cubs. Oh no. Oh, shell. _Raphael was standing squarely between the sow and the foraging baby. With a hoarse, barking roar, the bear charged.


	3. Chapter 3 Where's Raph

**A/N: Warning for a bit of violence in this chap, and a death of a PD during battle. Might as well apply that "bit of violence" to the rest of this fic. The Roberts are not nice people. Neither are the PD's or Agent Bishop.  
**

* * *

_Chapter 3 -Where's Raph?-  
~~~_

"Where's Raph?" Leonardo glared around the dojo at his brothers.

"Oh, you know Raph. He was out all night. He's probably sleepin', Leo." Michelangelo gave Leonardo his best soft baby-brother eyes.

"Well, staying out all night is Raph's choice, but he can't just skip training because he doesn't want to get out of bed," growled Leo, striding out of the dojo.

Don glanced up from his kata, meeting Mikey's eyes. "Is Raph in his bed?"

"Nope."

"Why didn't you tell him?"

Mikey shrugged. They heard Leonardo's voice raised and pounding at Raphael's door. He would just walk in, but it was always best to let Raph know you were coming before entering his room, especially if he was sleeping. It was never, _ever_ a good idea to startle a sleeping ninja.

"Michelangelo!" Leonardo stormed back into the dojo, his dark eyes flashing with fury.

Mikey gave his brother his best innocent stare. "What, Leo?"

"Where is Raphael?"

"I dunno, Leo."

"You were up last night. Why didn't you _tell_ me he never came in?"

"Am I my brother's keeper?" Mikey grinned.

Leonardo's eyes narrowed. "Yes, Michelangelo." Mikey winced at the use of his full name. "Yes, we are _all_ our brothers' keepers. We've got to look out for one another. What if he's hurt?"

"Leo, he does this all the time," said Donatello. "If he were in trouble, he'd contact us."

"If he _weren't_ in trouble, he would've _called_," growled Leo.

"Raph never calls," said Michelangelo.

"He calls _me_," said Leo quietly. "I talked to him about his all-nighters. I told him if he wants to stay out all night, he's a big turtle and I'm not going to get on him about it. But I expect him to call. So he has been. He calls and lets me know he's ok. Last night, he didn't call."

Donatello fell out of his kata. "He didn't…"

"No."

Michelangelo shook his head. "He probably forgot, Leo."

"Mikey, we can't take that chance. Don, can you track his shell-cell?"

"Yeah."

"Training is canceled this morning. Don, go do your thing with the computer. Mikey, gather whatever medical supplies Don thinks he might need. I'll tell Master Splinter we're going out after Raph."

"Gotcha."

"I'm on it, Leo."

Leonardo made his way slowly to his master's bedroom. The soft glow of candles from within indicated Splinter was already awake and meditating. Leonardo tapped lightly on the screen and waited.

"Enter, my son," came the permission. Leonardo slid the screen back and entered, kneeling before his father.

"Something troubles you, Leonardo?"

"Yes, Sensei. Raphael is missing. And… he didn't check in with me last night."

Leonardo could feel Splinter's black eyes on him, but he didn't look up.

"You are worried?"

"Yes, Father. Raphael is impulsive and rebellious, but he has honored our agreement that he would call if he were going to be out late, or not come home."

"You and your brothers will go and look for him."

"_Hai_, Sensei. We will bring him home."

"I know, Leonardo." Splinter met Leonardo's eyes. Neither of them voiced the thought. _We will bring him home, whether he is injured or… _Neither of them finished the thought, even in their own minds. Neither wanted to consider the possibility that Raphael had met his end on the cold streets of New York, alone and unaided by his family, but both knew that if Raphael were able to call, to spare his family this worry, he would. He had made a promise, albeit a reluctant one, and above all, a ninja keeps his word. Leonardo stood, making a bow to Splinter and left.

"I've got the medi-kit, Leo," said Michelangelo.

"Good. Are we ready to go?"

"Don's still messing with his computer. He says the tracker isn't working properly."

Leonardo stuck his head into his brother's lab. Donatello was sitting at the computer, glowering at the screen.

"Don, are you ready? Did you find him?"

"The tracker's malfunctioning. I placed him here," Donatello pointed at the screen, "For about three hours, but that was around midnight."

"Well, it's a place to start," said Leonardo.

"He's not there now, Leo. At least, his cell's not there."

"Well, let's go and look for him." Leonardo was becoming impatient.

"…Ok." Donatello frowned at the screen again. _No sense telling Leo that Raph's not even in the city anymore. The tracer's obviously malfunctioning. I really should've insisted Raph give it to me for repairs last week when the beacon started tracking so oddly…_

He grabbed his bo and followed his brothers out of the Lair.

Leonardo took to the rooftops, leading them across the city to the alley where Don's equipment indicated Raph had been last.

"We're near the docks," said Leonardo, his eyes narrowing. "Do you think Raph might've run into the Purple Dragons?"

"It seems likely," said Donatello. "You know Raph."

Leonardo swore softly. "I thought he wasn't going to do the vigilante thing anymore. It's too dangerous."

"Leo, Raph gave up the Nightwatcher, but that doesn't mean he won't try to stop the PD's," said Michelangelo.

"I know." Leonardo sighed. "I just wish he wouldn't try to do it by himself."

"Leo, Raph can take care of himself," said Don, touching his brother's shoulder.

Leonardo turned to gaze at him with dark, stormy eyes. "That's not the point, Don. We're a team. We work _together_. He shouldn't have been in this neighborhood alone."

"Come on, guys. I see somethin'," called Mikey, already halfway down the fire-escape.

"Hold on, Mike, we're coming." Leonardo jumped lightly down after his brother, followed closely by Donatello. Michelangelo was kneeling in the alley, looking at the ground.

"Hey, what's this? It smells funny, almost like…" He ran his fingers across the pavement and held them up into the thin strip of light from a streetlight, the only illumination in the alley. "Eeep!" Michelangelo scrambled back, staring at his fingers.

"Mikey, you ok?" Leonardo was at his side in an instant. Donatello paused to examine the darker patch on the pavement.

"It… it… it's blood," stammered Mikey. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard. When he spoke again, his voice was steady. "Donny, is it… Is it Raph's?"

Donatello brushed his hand over the congealing puddle. "It feels a bit thin for human blood," said Donatello, sounding strained. "But it's hard to tell. This is cool, and beginning to dry. It's a few hours old."

"Is he badly hurt?"

"I can't know, Leo, but there's certainly enough blood here to indicate a pretty bad wound, yes. We'll need to find him as soon as possible."

"He's not here… Do you think he'd be able to move around on his own after losing that much blood?" Leonardo tried to keep his voice steady.

Donatello shook his head in frustration. "I don't know, Leo. I mean, it's Raph. Anything's possible. It might not be his… or it might not _all_ be his, so it's impossible to judge how badly he's injured. He's not here, so obviously he either moved away from the area under his own power, or…"

"Or he was taken." Leonardo stood up. "We've got to find him."

"Well, considering that his cell is malfunctioning, he might not have been able to contact us. If he were injured but mobile, he would've come home, or gone to Casey or April's."

"They both have phones. He would've called."

"Which leaves us with him being taken." Donatello rubbed a hand over his forehead. "But by whom? And _where_?"

"Uh, guys?" Michelangelo spoke, but his brothers ignored him.

"The Purple Dragons seem like the most likely candidates, seeing how this is their territory," mused Leo.

"Guys?" Mikey tried again.

"Well, the Foot have been active in this area again as well. It seems like there have been more skirmishes lately," replied Don.

"Guys?"

"I guess we'll have to find a couple of members and get them to talk," said Leonardo grimly.

"Guys!" Michelangelo's shout finally got his brothers' attention. "I don't think we're gonna have ta…" _Crash…_ "look fer 'em!"

Leonardo whirled, drawing his katanas. A tall, lanky man lay on the ground, groaning under a garbage can. Six others were approaching, keeping a wary eye on Mikey now. One held a piece of steel pipe, another a baseball bat. Leo heard the rattle of chains.

"What're ya doin' in our alley, _freaks?_" snarled the one with the pipe.

"We're looking for our brother. If you tell us where he is, we'll take him and leave," said Leonardo evenly. "We're not looking for trouble."

"Well, ya found it," said the leader, rushing Mikey.

Michelangelo jumped back, easily avoiding the man's swing. Don's bo crashed down on his head while he was still looking, bewildered, at the spot where Michelangelo had stood only moments before. With a shout, the others attacked. The baseball bat clattered to the ground, sliced neatly in half by Leonardo's katana blade and its owner howled, clutching his stung fingers. Michelangelo's nunchucks whistled, spinning with a fury. They tangled with a chain and he yanked the chain-wielding man off his feet. The man flew forward, meeting a neat punch.

Donatello shook his head. "Careful, Mikey," he called.

"Always am, bro."

"Behind you, Don!" Leonardo's sword swung through the air, the flat of the blade connecting solidly with the side of a man's head as he was swinging a knife toward Donatello's shell. His aim was ruined and the knife missed Don's unprotected neck, its intended target, and slid across his shell. The man staggered and fell with a _thump_.

"Thanks, bro," said Donatello, sounding shaken.

Leonardo shook his head grimly. "No problem."

Leonardo heard Michelangelo squeal and turned in time to see a man plunging a dagger into his younger brother's arm. A roar escaped Leonardo and his katana flashed. The unfortunate Purple Dragon fell to the ground without a sound, his eyes wide and stark in his face, his scream cut off by the steel embedded in his neck. Michelangelo jumped back from the dead man instinctively.

"Leo!" Don caught his brother's arm as he sagged.

"Help Mikey," said Leonardo, straightening. He felt sick. He'd killed a man. It was not as if he'd never killed before, but he hated it. It never got easier. _A life cannot be replaced_, he heard Splinter's words echoing through his mind and felt consumed by a burning shame.

_I'm sorry, Sensei_, he thought. _I didn't have to kill him. He hurt Mikey and in a moment of anger, I reacted._

"Leo? Are you ok?" Michelangelo's voice was shaky. "Ow! Donny!"

"Sorry, Mike." Donatello probed the wound gently. He whistled. "Mikey, if that had gone deeper, you might've lost use of this arm. He came awfully close to the tendon."

"Leo stopped him," said Michelangelo. "I felt it. When Leo's sword hit, it jerked the knife back. Leo, bro… thanks."

"You're welcome, Mikey." Leonardo looked up, a wan smile lightening his features. "Come on, we've got to see if one of these guys is in any shape to talk to us."

He heard a moan and turned to the man laying to his right. The one who'd tried to stab Don. Leonardo scowled. He leaned down and grabbed the man's grubby tee-shirt, hauling him to his feet none too gently.

Propping him against the alley wall, Leonardo leaned close, letting the light from the streetlamp fall just across his mask, knowing the shadows it cast would make his eyes look dark and dangerous. A couple of slaps woke the guy up and his face went white as he stared into the furious gaze of the turtle pinning him to the wall.

Leo let the man see the flash of steel through the blood on his katana as he placed the point under his chin. He could feel him trembling under his hand and allowed himself a small, grim smile. The Purple Dragon whimpered and closed his eyes. Leonardo felt the tiniest stirring of sympathy. Up close, it was obvious the kid wasn't more than sixteen. He had the dragon tattoo snaking up his arm, but hadn't yet reached the level that allowed him to carry it on his face. This was a lower-ranking member, a street-punk, the kind of dumb kid Leo would normally have let go without a second thought. But normally his brother wasn't missing.

"Talk," snarled Leonardo. "Where's my brother? Where's Raphael?"


	4. Chapter 4 Cameron

**A/N: Contrary to popular belief, bears, at least the black bears common to Upstate NY, are not ravening, blood-thirsty killers. They're actually quite shy, but like Raph, will attack if they feel their cubs are threatened.**

**Raph's technique is not the recommended way of dealing with a bear if you ever happen to meet one. It's better to back away slowly, and not make too much noise. Never turn your back, and never run. Never climb a tree- bears can climb better than you, believe me. If it charges, curl up in a ball and try to protect your head and neck. (Or as my brother is so fond of saying: "Put your head between your knees and kiss your butt goodbye") lol**

**However, I've seen Raph's way work, too. I guess a yelling, waving Ninja Turtle was just too much for Mama bear.  
**

* * *

_Chapter 4 -Cameron-  
~~~_

Raph froze for all of two seconds. The bear huffed, skidding to a stop, sniffing the air. She stood up on her hind legs, taller than Raph.

"Go on!" he yelled, waving his arms. "Go on, get outta here, ya dumb bear!" _That's right, Raph, tick it off. Maybe it'll kill ya faster dat way._ Still, he waved his arms more vigorously. "Go on! Yah!"

The bear dropped down to all fours, huffing again. She growled. Raph backed away. _I can't run,_ the panicked thought shot through his brain. _She'd be on me before I could take two steps. Shell… Don told us what ta do if we met a bear in da woods at da farmhouse… Wish I could remember what he said. Donny, I wish ya were here, wit' yer cool thinkin'. Ya'd know what ta do…_

Slowly, Raphael backed away. The bear watched him through small black eyes. "Go on, bear," he said loudly, waving his arms again. The bear huffed, swaying her head back and forth at him. Raphael kept backing up, not sure what else to do. Something caught his foot, and he fell backward, nearly landing flat on his shell. He bounced back to his feet, swearing as pain shot through his injured leg. Something rough and solid scraped his hand. He instinctively grasped it, lifting. It was a huge branch.

He waved it. "Yah!" he yelled, backing up further. The bear took another half-hearted lunge toward him. Raph waved the branch. Finally, the bear turned away, and lumbered off toward her cub that was mewling now, twenty feet up a tree.

Raphael backed up slowly, keeping his eyes on the pair, until they were out of his line of sight. Still, he could hear the mother bear's snuffling and growling. He stumbled, realizing the sun was shining full on his shell, and turned to look over his shoulder. He froze, staring at the vision before him.

_What the shell? A cabin, out here? Must be some hunter's retreat. It's too early for huntin' season to be open…_ He remembered Casey telling Leonardo that hunting wasn't allowed in the early spring, because the animals have young. _Except turkeys. Those they hunt in da spring, I t'ink. I don't see nobody around. Mebbe nobody's usin' it right now. Well, I've gotta crash somewhere. Might as well check it out. _Raphael approached slowly, using the brush as cover. There was no movement, no stir of air, no sound, from the cabin. Raph slipped out of the brush to the back of the small building, using the small lean-to on the side of the cabin for cover. He peered through a dusty window at the interior.

There appeared to be only one room. Raph couldn't see any doors, but he saw what looked like a ladder propped against one wall. There was no sign that anyone had been inside for quite some time. A crude wooden table stood in the middle of the room. A small bed was pushed into a corner, with a blanket rolled up and lying ready at the foot. Some cabinets and shelves adorned one wall. A small iron stove took up another corner, to the right. Raph turned, and saw the pipe sticking out of the wall of the cabin. He moved silently over, and touched it. It was cold to the touch. No one had lit a recent fire in the stove.

Raphael debated for a few minutes. The woods were silent except for the calls of a few birds. _I gotta chance it,_ he decided finally. _I gotta stay outta sight and I gotta do somethin' about this leg. _

Cautiously, he slipped around to the front of the cabin and tried the door. It was unlocked. Raph smiled, and slipped inside. He let the door close softly behind him, and swept his gaze across the bare little room. Looking up, he saw that the ladder led up to a small loft. Raphael froze. Could someone be hiding up there?

_Only one way to find out._ Slowly, painfully, he climbed the ladder. His eyes swept the small space. It was warmer up here, inviting. _Gives a perfect view of the front door, too. An' there's a window wide enough to climb through if I had ta get out fast. Perfect. _Raph climbed back down the ladder to the main floor.

He searched the cabinets, finding, to his satisfaction, a small first-aid kit complete with bandages, antibacterial salve, scissors, needle and thread, and a small, very sharp blade. He found a few basic pans, a skillet, pan, and pot, all iron. In another cupboard he found some chipped plates and cups. It looked like only the bare essentials were kept. This was no vacationer's spot; it was a very basic hunting cabin.

On a shelf, behind a small curtain, he hit the jackpot. Several tightly sealed jars of jerky lined the shelf, as well as packets of nuts and chocolate. Trail food, sustaining if not filling. Raph took down a jar of jerky, and several packets. _Like junk food but better._ _Too bad they don't have freeze-dried pizza._ Searching further, he found an oil lantern, some candles and matches, and a large bottle of oil to fuel the lamp. In the lower cupboard were some lengths of rope, a long, light chain with a padlock and key attached, and a wicked looking hunting knife along with several plastic boxes of ammunition.

_Now I've gotta find some water. There's no running water in here. I guess they must have to haul it from somewhere._ Raph slipped out of the cabin and looked around. Spotting an old-fashioned metal pump handle, he gave it a jerk, and water poured forth.

_Well lookit me, a regular Daniel Boone,_ he thought with a smirk. _Donny'd prolly be able to rig me up running water and electricity if he were here. Leo'd be starting a fire in da stove so he could make tea. Or meditatin'. He likes to meditate in da woods. And Mikey'd be trying to catch a squirrel to take home for a pet. Shell, I miss da guys. Actually, a fire don't sound like a half-bad idea. I saw wood in da t'ing out on da side o' da cabin._

He carefully made his way around the corner. Firewood was stacked under the lean-to. Raph gathered an armful and carried it inside. Setting it down by the stove, he made a second trip, then a third. He set the pot of water on the stove, and leaned down to stack the smaller pieces in a tee-pee shape.

_Whoa._ The room seemed to tilt. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and his arms and hands trembled for a moment. Shaking his head to clear his vision, Raphael lit the tinder. The fire crackled, and quickly caught the dry wood. Raph stared into the fire for a few minutes, fascinated, as always, by the flame. Only when the fire grew large enough to make him draw back from the heat did he toss in a few large sticks, feeding the now-blazing fire, and close the door to the stove. Raph smiled in satisfaction. The skills he'd learned from Casey at the farmhouse were paying off. As long as he kept the fire burning hot, it would give off very little visible smoke.

He let the water boil on the stove before fetching clean rags from a box near the cupboard. Raph dipped the rags into the water and lifted them out with a bent fork. Gritting his teeth, he laid the rag over his wounded thigh.

_Shell…_ A hiss of pain escaped him as the hot water burned into the open flesh. With careful tenderness, he washed the worst of the blood and dirt away from the wound, and replaced the rapidly-cooling rag. It took a while, but he finally had the jagged tear cleaned. Assembling his supplies, he dipped the needle in the boiling water, then the thread. He carefully slipped the thread through the eye of the needle, and took a deep breath. His hand was steady as he plunged the needle through the edge of his own skin.

By the time he'd sewn the wound closed, tears of pain were streaming down Raphael's cheeks. He slathered the anti-bacterial salve onto a large gauze pad, and with a half-sob, pressed it to his thigh. Tearing some of the rags into strips, Raph wrapped it firmly and tied the bandage in place. He carefully scattered the fire in the stove, hiding the evidence of his recent activity. Taking a deep drink from the cooling pot of water, he opened the window nearby, dumped the remaining water out and replaced the pot in the cupboard. He carefully put everything back where he'd found it, hiding all evidence of his presence.

Raphael felt dizzy, weak and sick. He gathered some of the food, and a spare blanket he found in the cabinet, and climbed the ladder. He crawled into a corner, far from the edge, well out of sight in the deepening shadows, and wrapped himself in the blanket. The warmth from the stove and the exertion of the past few hours worked together to close his watchful amber eyes. Soon, he was fast asleep.

***

Cameron slipped through the woods, silent on the carpet of pine needles. He knew the way to the cabin well; he'd often hidden from his father in the old hunting cabin. When Thomas was drunk, or in a foul mood, it was best if he made himself scarce.

_I wish Johanna wasn't so rotten to Billy an' me. It woulda been great to have a cool older sister, with Mom gone. I wish Billy hadn't took off ta da city. Pa's been after me ever since he left. I guess I can't blame him, though. As soon as I'm old enough, I'm outta here, too. Mebbe Billy'll let me go with him to the city. I could get a job there, an' find a place to live. Anywhere's got to be better than home._

Cameron approached the cabin carefully, watchful for any sign of activity. Nothing moved in the little clearing. He slipped up to the window, peering in for a moment to assure himself no one was inside, before slipping in and setting the latch. Pa wouldn't look for him here, he knew. Pa rarely came up to the cabin anymore, since Ma died three years ago. Pa didn't go anywhere these days, except to the bar on the corner, and then he came home drunk, and mean.

_I remember when Pa used to bring Billy an' Jo an' me up here, an' we'd go huntin'. Ma used to smile so pretty when we'd come home wit' a deer or passel of rabbits. Mmm, rabbit stew. Mebbe I'll go set the snare, an' see if I can catch one fer my supper. _Cameron rooted through the cabinet, finding his supplies, completely unaware of the cabin's other occupant sleeping above his head. He found the thin wire snare, and his knife, and set off into the pines, looking for a good place to set his trap.

***

Raphael groaned softly. He rolled over, and sat up, and gasped as pain shot through his leg. It was stiff and sore, and movement sent shivers up his spine as the damaged muscles protested.

_Ah shell. I won't be able to walk far for a day or two anyway. Well, I can stay here, and let it heal before I start fer home, I guess. Hey… what smells so good? I'm hungry. I didn't even realize it._ He sat up, and fear shot through him. There was a definite odor of something cooking. _What da shell? Somebody's here?_ He swore softly, crawled silently to the edge of the loft. He surveyed the cabin from his perch, but saw no one. Taking a deep breath, he leaned out further, looking at the back of the cabin, but it was empty. He saw the large pot sitting on the stove, steam rising from its contents. Whoever had been there was outside somewhere, but the food on the stove made it obvious they'd return.

_Oh shell._ Raphael edged back. _I don't think I can make da jump ta da ground, not wit' my leg. I'd better stay here an' see if I can ambush 'em. Mebbe they'll jus' leave._

The door opened, and Raph scooted back, watching with wide amber eyes as a slight boy came in, carrying an armload of wood. Raph heard him open the stove door, and a burst of burning-wood smell wafted up to him. The boy went out the door, and came back with another load of wood. Raph heard a spoon clink against the pot.

The boy came into view again, carrying the pot carefully, holding the handle with a rag. He'd set out one plate, and a spoon. He scooped out some of whatever was in the pot. It looked like some kind of meat, and chunks of what looked like potato, in a thick gravy. Raph's mouth watered at the smell.

_Only one plate? Is he out here alone, a kid like that? Weird. But I don't see anyone else. _The boy got up again, and picked up a large plastic pail from the floor near the cabinet. The turtle watched through narrowed eyes as he headed out the door.

In an instant, Raphael made a decision. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he climbed as quickly as he could down the ladder, and positioned himself on the hinged side of the door. The boy took ten minutes or so to get the water. The door swung open, nearly touching Raph's plastron, as he staggered in, carrying the bucket. Water sloshed on the dusty wooden floor as the boy set the water down.

Raph stepped forward, and in one move, had an arm around the boy's waist, the other hand clamping over his mouth. The boy screamed behind Raph's hand, struggling wildly, but Raph's grip was firm. He hissed with pain as the boy's heel connected with his leg below the knee.

"Take it easy, kid, I ain't gonna hurt ya," growled Raphael. "Now, if ya promise not ta scream, I'll let ya go, ok?" The boy ignored him, squirming wildly. "I said, cut it _out_," said Raph sharply as the boy kicked him again. He dropped down on his good knee, moving his injured leg back out of harm's way, and planting the boy firmly on the floor. The boy's legs drummed on the wooden floor as he struggled, twisting and turning, desperate to get loose.

"Kid, if ya don't quit, I'm gonna hafta tie ya up and gag ya. I don't wanna hurt ya. now just _hold still_," snarled Raphael. The boy stopped trying to scream, but kept struggling, pushing at the arm around his waist with both hands. Raphael let go of his mouth.

"Lemme go lemme go lemme go!" the boy shouted, his voice high and breathless. He squirmed, swinging blindly behind himself at his captor. Raph yelped as his small fist connected with his wounded thigh. He'd had enough.

Raph drew his sai and pressed the tip to the boy's throat. "I'm losin' patience wit' ya, kid. Now _quit._"

The boy gasped, and went limp in Raph's grip. "Lemme go," he whimpered. "Don't cut me!"

"Kid. I ain't gonna hurt ya. Relax," said Raph. He lowered the sai, trying to catch his breath. "I didn't mean ta scare ya so bad. I just wanted summa dat stew ya made, ok? Now, I'm gonna let ya go, but ya gotta promise not ta scream when ya see me, ok?"

"Why would I…" the boy gasped, staring down at the arm still clamped around his waist. "Yer… yer… green." His voice squeaked.

"Yeah, Kid. I'm a little… different. But I ain't gonna hurt ya, ok? An' ya ain't gonna scream, right?"

"N… n… no."

"Ok." Raphael released the boy, and stood up, backing away, preparing himself in case the kid freaked out again.

The boy got to his feet, scrambling away from Raphael, before he turned around. His blue eyes were huge in his white face. "Yer… yer…a…"

"Yeah. I'm a turtle kid. Ok? Now, how about sharin' some o' dat food? I'm starvin'."

The boy blinked. "Yeah, ok, sure. It's rabbit. Fresh. I just caught it this afternoon. An' some cattail roots. They're jus' like potatoes." The boy moved slowly to the chair, and sat down, watching Raph warily.

"Ya cooked it an' everyt'in?"

"Yeah."

"Wow, kid, dat's really somet'in. I wouldn'ta known how ta do it."

"Really?"

"Nope." Raphael got a second plate from the cupboard, grabbed a spoon, and sat down. He scooped out a generous portion of the food and took a bite. "Wow, dis is pretty good."

"Thanks. My ma taught us all to cook."

"All? Where's da rest o' yer family?" Raph's eyes narrowed, watching the kid.

"They're… home. They're comin' tomorrow," said the kid, but his eyes flickered away. Raph frowned. His hand snaked out across the table, catching the kid's wrist in an iron grip. He yelped, jumping up and knocking his chair backward.

Raphael glared into his huge blue eyes. "Don't lie ta me, kid. I'm a ninja. Ya _can't_ lie ta me, I'll know. Now, tell me da truth. Where are they?"

* * *


	5. Chapter 5 Hunting

**A/N: I just want to take a moment to add a disclaimer in response to a review I got on the first chapter: Please do not assume the stereotypical rednecks depicted in this fic are "normal" upstate NY'rs. **

**Like all areas, we have our share of villains. I did, in fact, loosely base the Roberts on an actual family. On the flip side, there are far more good, generous and interesting people living in this beautiful area than ignorant hicks. It just so happens for the purposes of this fic, Raph has run into the less-than-stellar examples of local humanity. Had he come to _my_ house, his reception would've been much more welcoming. But the story would be far less interesting... Heck, it wouldn't even have gotten written, I'd have been too busy hanging out with him (Or perhaps running from him, depending on his mood) to write anything. ;)  
**

**On with the story!  
**

**Please do review! Criticism is as welcome as praise, as long as you play nice. :)  


* * *

**

_Chapter 5 -Hunting-  
~~~_

"There." Johanna pointed to the path of crushed grass and broken brush leading down the bank on the side of the highway. "It musta crawled down da bank. That's one heckofa big turtle!" Her eyes narrowed. "Are ya tellin' me it's just a snapper, Billy? 'Cause that's a awful big path fer a snapper to have left."

"Yeah, Jo, it's huge," said Billy, glancing nervously at Juan.

Johanna scowled. "Ya'd best not lie ta me, boy," she snapped. "Come on. We'll park down by da boat launch, and walk up da river bank. Mebbe it's still there."

"I'm tellin' ya, Jo, it was hurt bad. It didn't go far," said Billy. "It ain't worth all dis traipsin' around. Why don't I take you back home? Juan an' I gotta get back ta da city."

"An' I tol' ya, I'm comin' wit' ya," said Jo. "Why're ya tryin' ta get rid o' me, Billy? What're ya hidin'?"

"I ain't hidin' not'in!" shouted Billy. "Ask Juan. He'll tell ya."

Johanna's blue eyes bored into Juan. He shrugged.  
"It's just a turtle," he said, avoiding her gaze. "Like Billy said."

"I don't believe you," said Johanna. The shotgun cradled on her arm swung up, and Juan found himself staring down the muzzle. "Now, what're you boys _really_ huntin' fer out here?"

"It… it's a big turtle," said Juan, his voice cracking.

"How big?"

"As big as me. It walks on two legs like _un hombre_. It's weird, like… like a monster or somethin'. If it's _alive_, it's gonna kill us all." Juan crossed himself, swallowing nervously.

"Ain't no turtle, monster or no, that's gonna git past my gun," said Johanna, patting the shotgun. "Don't you worry, Juan. I'll protect ya." She sneered.

"Watch where yer pointin' dat t'ing," growled Billy. She swung the gun casually toward her brother.

"You got a problem, Billy?"

"Knock it off, Jo."

"Wuss," she snapped. "Now come on, let's find that turtle. I'll drive."

"What do you care?" snarled Billy sullenly. "You don't even _like_ huntin'."

"It sounds like you mighta stumbled on a gold-mine little brother, and I want in. What, were you gonna sell it to Reeds, the taxidermist?" Johanna smirked as Billy's ears turned bright red.

"You never did think big, Billy. That's why yer big sister needs ta look out fer ya. You'd o' sold that thing to Reeds, and got what, a couple thousand for it? Don'tcha know how much it'd be worth to a tabloid? Ya don't sell da whole thing, Billy. Ya sell the _pictures_ o' da t'ing first. Then, after everybody gets tired o' gawpin' at it, ya sell da body to a collector or scientist or somet'in. If it really walks and talks, ya better hope it ain't dead. It's worth more alive."

"You better hope it's dead, _mija_, said Juan with a laugh. "I hear stories about these turtles in da city. They are fighters. This is not some stupid animal you can just shoot like a deer. They are more like men than animals."

"That just makes this a challenge," said Johanna, her blue eyes glinting. She cocked the gun.

Billy looked at his sister, and swallowed hard. "Jo, maybe this isn't such a good idea. Juan's right. Don't you read the papers? Last year, the cops found a body. The guy had puncture wounds… one o' da cops said it looked like _fang_ marks, but there were three holes in 'im. What if da thing's a man-eater?"

"Then we'll feed it Juan," sneered Johanna. "That'll give it a belly ache so we can catch it easier. Now come on, you idiots." She strode to the truck and climbed in the driver's seat, hardly waiting for Juan and Billy to get in before she drove off with a jerk.

They pulled into a spot near the boat-launch, and Johanna shut off the truck, sticking the keys in her pocket without comment. Billy and Juan exchanged glances. Johanna jumped down, holding the shot-gun over her arm.

"Come on, you two."

The boys climbed slowly down. Billy grabbed his gun from the back seat, and a handful of shells. Johanna stalked off down the riverbank, her brother on her heels.

"Here, look, blood." She pointed. "An' it got up, see…" she swore. "Watch the bank, it's soft."

Billy nodded, staring at the place where the bank had crumbled away, undoubtedly pitching the turtle-creature down the short drop and into the fast-moving water. "Looks like we lost it. It fell in the river. Who knows where it went from there."

"So we'll go in the river after it," said Johanna. Billy stared at his sister.

"Are you nuts? That water's gotta be forty degrees, an' it's filthy. I ain't goin' in there!"

"Not swimming, you idiot. We'll get Pa's boat. You and Juan go get it. I'll stay here and scout around. Mebbe I can spot the thing." She tossed Billy the keys.

Juan followed Billy back up to the truck. "Dude, let's get outta here," he said as they climbed in. "We can head back to the city. She can walk home from here, or hitch a ride, right?"

"Are you kidding? Pa'd have my hide hangin' on his wall if I left her like that," said Billy. "Besides, Juan, do ya wanna make money off this thing, or do ya wanna turn tail an' run away like a couple o' scared kids back ta da city? We came this far. I say we find it."

_Running back ta da city like a scared kid sounds good ta me,_ thought Juan.

"Think of it, Juan, we could make _millions_. Jo's right. She's a rotten pain in the neck, but she knows how to survive, an' she knows how ta get what she wants. If she says we can make money offa dis t'ing, we can."

_Mamma needs those pills_, thought Juan.

"Ok, Billy. I'm in," he said. "But if dat t'ing eats yer sister,_ you're_ tellin' yer Pa."

Billy snickered. "You got it, bro. Hey, Juan?"

"Yeah?"

"What're ya gonna do wit' yer half o' da money?"

"I dunno. First we gotta catch da turtle."

"Oh, we will. Don't worry. No critter gets away from Johanna."

***

"Lemme go! Lemme go! Ok, I lied, they're not comin'!" The boy sniffled, cringing in Raph's grip. "It's just me, I'm by myself. Pa's home. He won't be lookin' fer me. Billy an' Jo, my brother an' my sister, they went back to da city wit' Billy's friend." Cameron stared at the floor, not noticing the way Raphael's eyes narrowed at the mention of Billy's name.

_Billy. One o' da kids from da truck. I wonder if dis kid knows his brother's lookin' fer me._

"Why'd ya lie to me, Kid?" growled Raph.

The boy shivered. "I… I just wanted ya ta t'ink they were comin' so ya'd let me go!"

"Why're ya out here by yerself?" Raphael eased his grip slightly, seeing no lie in the boy's eyes this time.

Cameron sniffed. "Pa was mad 'cause Jo an' Billy were fightin' an he… My Pa gets mean when he's mad. I came up here ta let 'im cool off, ya know. They don't know where I am." Tears streaked down his cheeks. Raph slowly relaxed, letting him loose. The boy backed away.

"See, dat wasn't so hard," he said gruffly. "Listen, kid…"

"My name's Cameron."

"Ok, Cameron. Here's the deal. I need a place ta stay, just for a couple days, ok? Yer stuck here wit' me, 'cause I can't let ya leave an' tell someone I'm here, but when I leave I'll let ya go."

Cameron's blue eyes met Raph's golden gaze, and he swallowed hard. "Yer gonna let me go?"

"Yeah."

"Ok." He picked up the chair, setting it back on its legs. The kid sat down. Raphael picked up his spoon and started eating calmly. After a moment, Cameron did the same. His eyes flickered to Raphael.

"Wh… what's yer name?" he asked timidly, as if he weren't sure he was allowed to ask.

"It's Raphael."

"Ok. Yer a turtle."

"Not'in gets by you, does it?" Raph growled. The kid flinched, and Raphael frowned.

_Aw, shell. I guess I came on a little strong. Now he's scared o' me. Makes him easier to control, but it sure makes me feel like a big shell-head._

They ate in silence. When they were finished, the boy gathered the plates, his movements jerky with nervousness. He held himself tense, as if he expected Raphael to grab him again. He picked up the now-empty pot, stacked the plates on top, and started for the door.

"Hey!" Raph jumped up. The boy spun around, his eyes wide with fear, nearly dropping the plates. "Where da ya t'ink yer goin?" growled Raphael, drawing a sai. The boy's terrified gaze flickered from the sai to Raph's glare.

"I… I… I was just gonna wash da plates," he stammered. Raphael relaxed slightly.

"Sorry, Kid." He slid his sai back into his belt. "But I t'ink da dishes can wait. How about ya just soak 'em in da bucket, ok? I don't want ya goin' outside." _I can't run fast enough ta catch ya if ya take off on me,_ thought Raph. _I've gotta keep ya in da cabin._

"Ok," said Cameron, trembling. He edged to the bucket, watching Raph warily. Raph frowned again, watching him. Cameron scooped out some water, splashing his shirt. He set the plates down with a sigh, and started to unbutton his shirt, but glanced at Raph with a strange look, and went back to washing the dishes. Raph watched, frowning. The kid's shirt sleeves were soaking, and Raph had seen the collar of a tee-shirt underneath.

_Why doesn't he want to take off dat shirt? What's he hiding? Could he have a knife or gun tucked in his belt? How'd he get dat rabbit, anyway?_

"Kid, take off yer shirt," said Raph, standing up. He kept his hand on his sai.

"What?" Cameron stood up and turned to face Raphael. His thin shoulders pressed back against the wall as he stared at the glowering turtle.

"Take off yer shirt."

"Wh… why?"

"Yer all wet."

"It's ok."

"No, it's not. Now take it off."

The boy shivered, and with trembling hands, picked at the buttons. Slowly, he slid the shirt off. Raphael gasped. The boy's arms were covered with bruises. Cameron stood with his head bowed.

"Yer father do that to ya, Kid?"

"…Yeah."

Raph limped to the boy. Cameron backed up against the wall, shrinking from the muscular turtle. Raph shook his head.

"I'm sorry I scared ya, Kid." He put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I didn't mean ta. I'm scared too, ok? You know yer bro and his friend are lookin' fer me, don't ya?" The boy nodded fearfully. "I thought ya were hidin' a weapon."

"No, Sir."

"It's ok, kid. Hang yer shirt up ta dry by da stove, ok? An' den it's time fer bed."

"Ok." The boy gave him one last fearful glance before taking his shirt and carrying it over near the stove. He hung it on a nail, and turned to watch Raphael, uncertain. "Where are ya gonna sleep?" he asked.

Raph considered. The bed looked inviting, but he couldn't leave the door unguarded. The boy sensed his hesitation. "There's a cot," he said. "Can I get it, so I don't hafta sleep on the floor?"

"Sure, kid. But ya can sleep on da bed. I'll take da cot. Just get it out and set it up fer me, ok?"

The boy's eyes widened with surprise, but he nodded. He pulled a bundle of cloth and sticks out from under the bed, and soon had a sturdy little cot set up. Raph picked it up in one hand, and carried it to the door. Setting it in front of the door, he lay down. The boy edged backward to the bed, and lay down too. Raph closed his eyes all but a slit, keeping one hand on his sai. He could see the boy in the dim evening light. He was curled up on the bed, facing Raph, with his back pressed firmly against the wall.

_I guess neither of us is gonna sleep very well tonight,_ thought Raph.


	6. Chapter 6 Confession

**A/N: How could I have forgotten?!! This work of fiction is fan-created. I have not received payment of any kind, unless you count the fun of temporarily entering the world of the characters I've grown to love. I own nothing but my OC's and a couple of cats. I'm not even entirely certain about the cats- they may own me.  
**

**Once again, thank you to the owners of the TMNT for allowing this and other fan-sites to exist without hunting us down with their lawyers' big guns, and for the joy their creation has brought to myself and millions of others around the world.  
**

* * *

_Chapter 6 -Confession-  
~~~_

"Wh…wh…what do you want?"

Leonardo glared into the eyes of the Purple Dragon he had pinned against the wall. The kid's breathing was ragged, hitching, as if he were trying not to cry.

"Our brother. Where is he? Where is Hun keeping him?"

"Hun? No… we don't…" The blade pressed against the kid's neck, and he forgot to breathe.

Leonardo gave him a little shake, allowing a low growl to rumble in his throat. "We know Hun has him, Kid. Talk, or I'll gut you like a fish."

"No! No, please… don't… I swear, Hun doesn't have him! One… one of our guys got in a fight last night with… we think it was one of the… I mean, one of you… but he was hurt real bad, barely made it back, but he said da fre…" The blade dug deeper, and the kid gasped. "Your… your brother… was still there. We… we was comin' ta get 'im. Hun wanted to see da body, but he wasn't here, an' you were an' Joe said we had ta bring Hun somethin', so we… Please… I swear… please don't kill me!"

"You were supposed to come get him? I don't believe you." Leonardo growled, allowing his blade to press just a little harder against the kid's throat. The kid did start crying then, whimpering in terror. A hand on Leonardo's shoulder made him turn.

"Leo. He's telling the truth. Let him go." Donatello's gentle brown eyes gazed into his brother's. Leonardo felt a chill. It was usually Raphael who Don had to calm down, had to talk into letting the ones they interrogated go. He drew his blade back, feeling sick to his stomach. What was happening to him? His control was slipping.

He turned and looked into the kid's eyes. "It's your lucky night. Now go home to your family. Stay away from the Purple Dragons. You'll only get hurt, hanging around with them." He gestured toward the dead man laying a few feet away in the alley. "You don't want to end up like _him_, do you?" Leo lowered him so his feet were touching the ground. "Get out of here," he snapped, before releasing the boy. The kid fairly flew over the pavement, disappearing into the night.

"Come on, Leo. I've got to get Mikey home and stitch that wound." Donatello spoke softly, but Michelangelo's whimper echoed clearly through the alley.

"You don't hafta do that, Donny. I just need a Band-Aid. I'm sure it'll be fine…" Mikey backed away as if his brother had brandished a sword at him.

"Mikey, come on. Let's get you back to the medi-lab so I can have a look, ok?" said Don soothingly. "Maybe we can just put a bandage on it, but I'll need better light. Come on, bro. You know I'll take good care of you."

"But Donny…"

"Michelangelo, let's go. Sensei will be worried," said Leo, putting all his authority into his tone.

"Ok," said Mikey. Leo touched his elbow, guiding him toward the manhole. "I hate needles, Leo," whispered Michelangelo.

"I know, Mike." Leonardo sighed. "I know."

***

Jonathon Taylor ran blindly down the street, hardly able to believe he was still breathing. The turtle had let him go. The night air cut into his lungs like ice, and he felt like he'd never stop running, not until he was out of the city, out of the Purple Dragon's territory, maybe out of the _state_. The blue-masked turtle was right. No matter what the PD's offered, it wasn't enough to ever face one of those mutants again. He wanted to _live_.

An arm caught him across the chest as he dashed past an alley, and Jonathon was knocked to the ground, winded. He scrambled, back, a strangled cry tearing from his throat.

_No! He said he'd let me go! It was a trick, he was just messing with me, he's going to kill me after all…_

A mountain of a man stepped out of the alley, smirking.

"Hun!"

"Jonathon." Hun leaned down, catching the boy by his tee-shirt. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

Jonathon's survival instincts kicked in. He thought fast. "I…I… I was coming to… to tell you…"

"Yes?"

Jonathon caught his breath, staring into the huge man's face. Hun was smiling, but he didn't look amused.

"The-turtle-is-missing-the-others-we-fought-'em-an'-they-were-lookin'-fer-him-in-da-alley," Jonathon said fast.

"Oh, really. Isn't that… interesting." Hun lowered Jonathon to the ground, his cold smile growing. He let the trembling boy go. "Yes, very interesting indeed."

_***_

"Mikey, you've got to hold still."

"You're not sticking me with that needle, Donny!" Michelangelo ducked, darting around the other side of the couch with amazing dexterity while holding one hand clamped over his wounded arm.

He ducked Leonardo's grab, and dashed up the steps toward his room, skidding to a stop as Splinter stepped out onto the balcony.

"Michelangelo!"

Mikey backed away, his blue eyes wide. "S…s…Sensei!"

"Am I to understand that you are resisting your brother's efforts to treat your wounds?" growled Splinter. His tail thrashed dangerously.

"N… No, Sensei! I… we… were just… um…"

"Usually Raph would sit on him, Splinter," explained Donatello, coming up the stairs and catching Michelangelo's good arm. Mikey jumped, twisting in his brother's grasp, but Don was unrelenting. Leonardo dashed up the stairs, catching Mikey's other arm gently. Michelangelo slumped, defeated, and let his brothers lead him down the stairs and back to the lab. Splinter followed, and stood in the doorway as they made Mikey sit down on the bed Don had set up for the purpose. Leonardo sat down beside Michelangelo, and the younger turtle turned his face into Leo's plastron, shivering with dread.

"It'll be over fast, Mike, I promise," said Donatello soothingly. "Quick as one, two…" He stuck a short needle into his brother's arm, administering a local anesthetic. "Three." Splinter winced as Michelangelo whimpered into Leo's plastron, flinching from the injection. "Just hold him, Leo."

Leonardo's strong arm wrapped around Mikey's shoulders, effectively pinning him in a hug. "See, Mike, it's not so bad. Don knows what he's doing. You're gonna be just fine…" he kept up the running commentary to take Mikey's mind off what Donatello was doing to his arm. Soon Don looked up from his delicate work, and nodded.

"See, Mike, he's done already," soothed Leo.

Michelangelo glanced over at Donatello, who nodded. He was preparing gauze to put over the wound. Mikey's eyes widened as he saw another hypodermic lying ready on the bench beside his brother.  
"Wh…what's that for?" He sniffed. Leo's grip tightened on his squirming brother's shoulders.

"It's a tetanus booster," said Don quietly. "You know when you get cut like this you need one, Mike."

Michelangelo's blue eyes were enough to melt a heart of stone, but Leonardo kept a firm grip. "Just make it quick, Don," he said through gritted teeth. Mikey turned his face to Leo's plastron again as Don turned to pick up the syringe, using his body to shield it from the trembling turtle's sight. Quickly, he stuck it into his brother's arm, just above the wound, where he was sure it would still be numb, and pushed down the plunger.

Michelangelo drew a shaky breath. Leonardo let him go, and he fairly scooted out of the lab. Splinter stepped aside to let him pass, and Michelangelo disappeared upstairs, his door slamming behind him. Leonardo watched as Splinter made his way across the Lair after his son at a more sedate pace.

"I wish Raph was here," said Don quietly, packing up his tools. "He always knows what to say to make Mikey feel better."

"He calls him a bonehead," commented Leo.

"Yeah, and Mikey makes a joke, and gets Raph chasing him, and pretty soon he's forgotten about the needles," responded Don.

"Do you think it would help if I called him a 'bonehead'?" asked Leo.

Don chuckled. "I doubt it. Raph has a special touch," he said.

Leo laughed, but then frowned. "Where could he _be_, Don? That kid swore Hun didn't have him."

"That kid would've sworn I was his grandmother with your katana at his throat," said Don quietly. "Leo, you were scary."

"Do you think he was lying?" Leonardo half rose, as if he would find the boy and wring the truth from him.

"No, Leo, relax," said Don. "If Hun had Raph, that kid would've spilled his guts. He was terrified. He would've given anything to be able to tell us where Raph is."

"You're right." Leonardo sighed, sinking back. "Hun doesn't exactly inspire loyalty. Don, you said you tracked Raph to that alley. What about after that? We didn't find any pieces of his cell."

"No…" Donatello was suddenly very busy with straightening the tools on his desk. After he moved the same stylus three times, Leo stood up and put his hand on his brother's arm, stilling his nervous movements.

"Don."

"Leo… I knew it was malfunctioning."

"What?"

"Raph's shell cell. The tracker's been malfunctioning for a few days. I told Raph I needed to fix it. I should have insisted. Leo, I'm sorry. It's _my _fault we can't track Raph." Don stood too straight, his shoulders tense. Leonardo's hand tightened on his forearm.

"Don, where's the last place you were able to track him to? The alley?"

"No. After that, it went off the map. It's been misreading the beacon. A couple weeks ago, his cell read as being across town when I know he was at April's…"

"Don, where did you track him to?"

"It's off the grid, Leo. The last signal came from here." Don jabbed at the map hanging on his wall with his finger. "It's further upstate than Casey's farmhouse, almost six hours from here by car. There's no way Raph traveled that far that fast…"

"What if he did, Don? What if he _was_ taken? We just assumed it was the enemies we know, we just assumed he was kept in the city. What if he were taken out of the city, like in a truck? Wouldn't that explain the interruption in the signal?"

Don looked up. "It… might," he admitted slowly. "Let me check again." He sat down at the computer, and tapped a command. The tracking screen for the shell-cells came up.

"Here's the log. The signal was here. That's the alley, at 12:06 AM. Then it disappears, and doesn't reappear until 6:28 AM, here." Donatello pointed.

"Don, I don't think the tracer malfunctioned at all. I think Raph is… upstate," said Leonardo, staring at the blip on the screen.

"But then it disappeared again, and I can't trace him at all now," said Don. "Leo, we can't chance going on a wild goose chase upstate, if Raph's being held here in the city. What if the Foot have him? Or Stockman, or Bishop? What if…"

"Don, we have to go with the evidence we have. Bro, those tracers you put in have saved our shells more than once."

"What if it's _wrong_, Leo? It's been malfunctioning…"

"It malfunctioned _once_, Don, that day when Raph was at April's. That doesn't mean it wasn't working when it picked up that last trace. We've got to try, Don. It's a solid lead. We've got to follow it up."

"Leo…"

"Don. I know this is hard, but I have a gut feeling. We're going."

Donatello drew a deep breath, and looked up. "Ok. I'll call April."

***

Across town, Hun was lounging back in a huge office chair, smiling at the man across the desk. "We can take delivery this week," he said.

"What of the… vigilantes you have been having trouble with?"

"They won't be a problem."

"Are you sure there will be no interference?"

"I'm sure."

"All right. I'll expect half the payment now, and half on delivery."

Hun smirked. "I'll want to examine the merchandise before any payment is made."

"I thought you might." The man snapped open his cell phone and pushed a few buttons. "_Bring them in_."

The two men who'd been waiting outside came in, carrying a crate between them. They set it down and pried up the lid. Hun's eyes gleamed as he looked at the contents.

"You say you can deliver fifty cases next week?"

"Yes."

"Good. We'll _own_ this city." Hun lifted one of the pistols and held it reverently. He looked down the sights as if he were aiming at Leonardo. "_Pow_."


	7. Chapter 7 Escape

* * *

_Chapter 7 -Escape-  
~~~_

Johanna swore loudly, and Juan winced. He was getting tired of her griping, but as long as she had that shotgun, he felt it was safer not to voice his opinion. Billy tugged, and Juan shoved, and between them they maneuvered the boat into the water.

"Can't you idiots do anything right? We've lost almost an hour while you fiddled around wit' dis boat!"

She climbed past her brother and plopped into the pointed bow of the boat. Billy sighed, and followed, seating himself in the center, leaving Juan to settle in the stern. Billy fitted the oars expertly into the locks, and began to row, allowing the current to carry them downstream. Juan looked out at the shore; bored, and certain they were wasting their time.

"If the turtle fell in the river, who knows where it ended up," grumbled Billy.

"If it could swim, it'd crawl out on shore somewhere, idiot," said Johanna.

"If it could still swim, we're dead meat," muttered Juan. "I'm tellin' ya, those turtles are bad news."

Johanna patted her gun fondly. "Not as bad as a Roberts," she said.

_I believe that,_ thought Juan. _I hope Mamma isn't worried. And that Maria got on the bus ok this morning. I should've been there to walk her down to the stop. Mamma shouldn't have to do it, not with her heart so bad these days. Dis turtle better be worth all the trouble._

He was so lost in his thoughts he nearly missed the marks on the shore. "What's that?" he pointed. Billy expertly steered the little boat into the bank. It rocked as Johanna scrambled out, not bothering to secure the boat. Billy climbed more carefully after her, pulling the boat up onto shore so it wouldn't drift back into the river. Juan crawled forward and stepped out, glad to find his feet once again on solid ground.

The three of them stared at the drag marks in the soft sandy shore where something large had obviously drug itself up out of the water and paused there.

"Lookit these tracks," said Johanna, a note of triumph in her voice. "No natural critter made these. Is this from yer turtle, Billy? Looks like it went inta da swamp."

Juan wrinkled his nose at the stench assaulting his nostrils, but Billy and Johanna scurried eagerly forward as if they didn't notice it.

"Da tracks lead right in, look. He went into the swamp. Let's go." Billy actually sounded _excited_ at the prospect.

"You are both _loco_. I'm not goin' inta no swamp after one a those turtles!" Juan stood with his feet planted firmly, glaring.

"Have it your way. Stay here and guard da boat. Mebbe it's still in the river," sneered Johanna. Juan looked nervously over his shoulder. He had two choices; follow Billy and Johanna into the swamp, or stay by the river and risk having the turtle-creature surface while he was here alone. He shivered.

"All right. I'm coming," he said. With one last glance toward the river, he turned and followed the others into the swamp.

***

Raphael woke with a start. Morning was shining clearly through the window, bathing his face in warmth and forcing his eyes open with its piercing brilliance. He sat up, groaning.

_Shell… my leg still hurts._ Below the familiar ache of healing muscle was a sharper, deeper pain, which would have worried him if he had taken a moment to think about it. The cabin was quiet. Raphael looked around, feeling a chill despite the warm sun shining on his plastron. His eyes landed on the empty bed and the crumpled blanket, and he swore. The window was open. Raph stood up, ignoring the pain in his leg. He quickly climbed the ladder, his narrowed eyes scanning the loft to see if the kid was hiding up there. Nothing.

_Aw, shell. Mebbe I should just get outta here. But I can't travel very far or fast yet, an' if da kid gets ta his brother, they'll be huntin' me. __I can't let him get to his brother and his friend. __No, I've gotta stop him._

Raph moved the cot aside, grabbed his walking stick and a length of rope and limped outside. Moving to the back of the cabin, he searched under the window until he saw the boy's distinct footprints in the dirt. The boy's trail led off into the woods. Raph began tracking him.

Half an hour later, Raphael stopped, listening. The kid was good; he'd give him that. He was leaving very little trail to follow, and he moved almost as silently as Raph himself through the woods. Only the occasional rustle of clothing and squeak of his sneakers against a rock gave away his presence. If Raph's leg hadn't been paining him so, he might have been impressed with the boy's skill as a woodsman.

_Got to make this quick. I don't think I can catch him if he runs_, thought Raph. He moved forward, silent on the pine needle carpet. The boy had paused near a trickling stream.

_Probably runs into the one I drank from_, thought Raph. He watched as the boy leaned down, cupping his hand to catch the cool water and sucking it up greedily. _Now, while you're distracted…_ Raphael slipped up behind the boy, and pounced.

The woods were filled with a keening cry. "No, Pa,… I was comin' home! Please, Pa, lemme go!" The boy's pitiful wails twisted Raph's heart.

"Kid, it's just me. Take it easy," he growled.

The kid struggled harder, thrashing. "No! Lemme go!" he cried.

"Hush, now, Kid, or I'll hafta gag ya. Why'd ya run away? You lookin' fer yer brother so he can have me stuffed an' mounted ta hang on da wall?" Raphael staggered to his feet, keeping a firm grip on the boy's arm. He spun him around. Cameron ducked, throwing up his hands to shield his face. Raph swore. _Geez, I ain't gonna hit ya. _The boy shrank away, but Raph kept a tight hold on his arm.

"Yer hurtin' me," the kid whimpered.

"Ya shouldn'ta run away, Cameron," said Raph gruffly, but he loosened his grip slightly. With his free hand, he began unwinding the length of rope.

Cameron went pale. "Wh…wh…what're ya gonna do?" he stammered.

"Make sure ya don't take off on me ag'in," Raph told him. He wound the rope firmly around the boy's waist. "Now, hold still." Cameron stood like a statue as Raphael knotted the rope. His shoulders slumped with defeat. Raphael gave the rope a tug.

"Come on, Kid. We got a long walk back."

"Yes, Sir," the boy whispered. He stumbled forward, following Raphael like a beaten dog.

"I tol' ya, Kid, da name's Raphael." said Raph, deliberately gentling his tone. The boy didn't answer. Raphael sighed. "Ya didn't really t'ink I'd let ya run off ta yer brother, did ya? Ya t'ink I want ta be some guy's trophy?"

Cameron sniffed. "I wasn't runnin' ta Billy," he said. "I was goin' deeper inta da woods, ta hide. I… I just wanted ta get away."

"Why, Kid? I said I wouldn't hurt ya."

A sniffle was Raph's only answer.

_Well, I guess huntin' him down an' jumpin' on him like dat wasn't the way to gain his trust. But I don't need 'im ta like me. I just need 'im ta stay put fer a couple days so I can rest up an' let this leg heal. After that we can both go our separate ways. In da meantime, I've gotta find a way to keep him from sneakin' off like dis._

"What have I gotta do ta keep ya from runnin' away again?" asked Raph, half to himself. The rope jerked so suddenly, Raph nearly lost his footing. "Hey!" He spun to face the boy, who had stopped in his tracks.

"Ya said… ya said ya'd let me go," stammered Cameron. "I… I won't run off no more, honest!" he whimpered, backing away as Raph glared at him. The rope kept him from going far, and he tripped, falling backward. Raphael grunted, keeping his balance with an effort. He walked back to the shivering boy, and reached down. Cameron scrambled back, crab-like. Raphael sighed. He shortened the rope until Cameron couldn't back away from him any further. He met the boy's blue eyes, and held out his hand. Cameron flinched, staring.

"Take my hand, kid," grated Raph, holding hard to his patience. Slowly, trembling, the boy reached up and let Raphael grasp his wrist. He hauled the kid to his feet.

"Listen, Cameron. I know yer scared," said Raph. The boy stared at him with those huge blue eyes. "I gotta little brother, too. His name's Mikey." Raphael's eyes filled with unexpected tears, and he blinked them angrily away, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. "I'd… I'd take da shell right offa anybody who hurt my little bro. I ain't gonna hurt ya, ok? I just need ya ta stick around the cabin for a couple days. When I go, you can go."

"How da I know ya'll let me go?" quavered the boy, staring suspiciously at him.

"I'm a ninja, Cameron. I'll give ya my word of honor."

"A… ninja?"

"Yeah."

"I… I don't know what dat is."

"Oh." Raphael sighed. "Well, ya'll just hafta trust me. Come on." This time the boy walked along.

It took them longer to get back to the cabin than it had taken Raph to find the boy. Raph stumbled as they came into the clearing, nearly falling. He recovered, and made his way to the cabin, with Cameron trailing along behind him.

"Yer leg's bleedin'," blurted Cameron.

Raph grimaced. "Yeah, I know," he growled.

"What'd ya do ta it?"

"I fell on somt'in sharp, Kid. I had it stitched up, but chasin' aroun' da woods after ya didn't help it feel better, ya know?"

"Sorry."

"Not as sorry as ya'll be if ya try somethin' like dat again." Raphael knelt, knotting the rope to the bed frame. He tried not to look at the big blue eyes staring at him from out of a pale face. He walked slowly to the cot, and sat down. He lay back on his shell with a groan.

"Are ya ok?"

"No, Kid. Now be quiet and let me rest."

The boy was quiet for all of ten minutes. Raphael was cursing silently as the pain in his leg stabbed. Sweat trickled down his neck. He felt hot and cold at the same time, chills making his teeth rattle while he sweated with the heat.

"Raphael?"

"What, Kid?" He answered through gritted teeth.

"I can make ya somethin' fer da pain."

"I'm fine, Kid."

"I know dis plant, if ya boil it, an' drink it like tea, it'll help."

"I said I'm fine."

The kid lay down on the bed with a frustrated little sigh. "It would help."

"Shut up."

Raphael heard the bed squeak. He didn't bother to open his eyes to see what Cameron was doing. He knew those knots were too tight, the kid wouldn't get loose. Sweat continued to trickle down his neck, pooling in the crevice where his plastron met his neck in a chilly little pool.

_Shell, Donny, I wish ya were here. I guess I'm not a good doctor after all._

Raphael heard movement from near the bed.

"Can't ya be quiet over there, Kid?"

"Yeah. Sorry." _Shuffle, shuffle._

"I'm warnin' ya, Kid…"

Silence. Raphael drifted. The cot was cool under him, not quite as comfortable as his hammock at home, but at the moment, nothing seemed to matter. Raphael was drifting… floating. He never heard the boy getting up from the bed, was unaware as he stretched his fingers to reach the long hunting knife from the cupboard, and with slow, careful movements, began to slice through the rope that tethered him.

It was several hours before Raphael woke again. His amber eyes flickered open as he felt something cool brush across his forehead. He smelled a strong, herbal scent. "…Donny?" he whispered. His throat felt scratchy, dry.

"Yer ok now," soothed an unfamiliar voice. "Ya got a touch o' swamp fever is all. I… I ain't gonna leave ya." The herbal mixture's scent was soothing, and the touch on his forehead so cool and gentle, Raph's eyes slid closed again.

The boy kneeling beside him breathed a sigh of relief, and took his hand away from the hunting knife he'd been holding ready, out of sight on the floor. He bathed the turtle's burning forehead with the rag. The thing hadn't hurt him for running off, had even spoken kindly to him. The least he could do was save its life before he made his escape.


	8. Chapter 8 Up the River

**A/N: This one's a cliffy. Sorry.  
Ok, well, maybe I'm not _real_ sorry. heh It's not the last, or even the worst cliffy you'll come to. Consider yourselves warned. :)**

* * *

_Chapter 8 -Up the River-_

"I _tol'_ ya comin' inta da swamp was a bad idea," said Juan. He swore as the black mud sucked at his boot.

"If ya walked on the hummocks like _we_ tol' ya to, ya wouldn't get stuck," sneered Johanna.

"It was bad luck to pick up da turtle in da first place," growled Juan. "It was bad luck ta bring it here an' I'm _glad_ it's gone, and good riddance."

"Idiot." Johanna smirked. "It ain't _gone_. It's just hidin'. We'll head back ta da river, see if we can pick up da trail again."

"I'm goin' _home._" Juan snarled.

"Not wit'out de keys, yer not," snapped Billy. Johanna and Juan had been going at each other for over an hour as they slogged through the hot, smelly, fly-infested swamp. He'd long since lost patience with both of them.

Juan swore again, but with resignation and Billy knew his friend was hooked. He wouldn't leave, not with the promise of more money than any of them had ever seen still within their grasp. Juan's ma hadn't been doing well since the trial, since Juan's brother went to jail. Billy held back his one remaining ace in the hole. He knew something no one else knew about that night. No, Juan wouldn't leave. Not until they found that turtle.

Johanna stepped lightly off the last clump and back onto the solid ground of the river bank. "Stay back, ya big clods. Lemme see if I can find da trail, or if ya tramped all over it already wit' yer big boots."

"Ya ain't gonna find not'in, Jo. Dat turtle's gone," grumbled Juan. Johanna ignored him. She knelt, touching the ground, and frowned.

"It went back outta da swamp. Billy, ya big idiot. How'd ya miss dis? Look." She pointed. A two-toed footprint showed faintly in the sand, pointing directly toward the river. "It musta gone back to da river."

Billy groaned. "We'll never find it."

"Don't be such a wuss. Of course we will. We'll just ride down da river til we figure out where it came out again. Maybe Pa has a turtle trap. Remember how we used ta catch snappers? How hard can catchin' dis t'ing be?"

Juan snorted. "It's no ordinary turtle, Johanna. When we found it, it was wearin' a coat like a man."

"So what? It's just a critter."

Juan shook his head. _She doesn't understand. Dis t'ing's gonna get us fer sure._

"Come on." To Juan's surprise, she motioned him ahead of her into the boat, and climbed into the center position. Billy pushed them off, and took his place in the bow. Johanna began rowing with deep strokes. They shot down the river.

"Lookit, there were da bank slopes. Where would ya get out if ya were wantin' ta?" asked Johanna, pointing.

Billy shrugged. "I don't t'ink it's dat smart, Jo."

"Ya tol' me it walks an' talks an' puts on a coat. It's prolly smarter 'an you," snapped Johanna. Juan smirked at Billy's scowl.

"Where would it go?"

"Well, if it's wounded, it's lookin' fer shelter. Let's pull up ta shore, an' see what we can see. Pa's ol' huntin' cabin's only a mile or two up the little creek from here."

"But… but that's where Cameron goes," blurted Billy. Juan turned, staring at him. Billy's face turned bright red. Johanna's eyes narrowed as she stared at her brother.

"Is that where da little snot's been hidin' from Pa?" she hissed.

"It's where we _all_ hid from Pa," snapped Billy. "'Cept mebbe you, since yer a girl, he didn't hit ya as much as me."

"It ain't 'cause I'm a _girl_, it's 'cause yer stupid," snarled Johanna. Juan saw an unpleasant gleam in her eye. "Wait 'til Pa hears where Cameron's been hidin' out."

"Jo, ya can't tell 'im!" Billy looked pained. "Why would ya do dat ta yer own flesh an' blood?"

"Why not? Somebody oughta tell Pa, an' yer sure not _man_ enough ta do it. Ya can't even hunt down one lousy turtle," taunted Johanna. Billy's hand tightened on the stock of his shotgun.

"Jo, keep yer mouth shut, I'm warnin' ya," he snapped.

"Or what, Billy?" sneered Johanna. "What're ya gonna do? Shoot me? Go ahead. I dare ya."

Billy's hand trembled, but the gun stayed where it was, lying across his knees. Johanna laughed again, an unpleasant, grating sound.

"Dat's what I thought. As soon as we git dat turtle, you'll just run off to da city. Yer good at dat, Billy, runnin' away. You always were good at runnin' away. Even when Ma died." She turned to Juan. "Ya know what he did da night Ma died? He up an' ran outta da house. Jus' left her bleedin' there on da floor."

"_Shut up, _Johanna!" shouted Billy. She ignored him.

"_I_ was da one who picked her up an' called da ambulance. _I_ was da one who tol' em she fell down da stairs, an' kept Pa outta jail. _I_ was da one who kept our family together. Billy just ran away."

Juan's gaze slid past her mocking blue eyes to his friend's angry glare. He tried not to notice the tears sliding down Billy's cheeks.

"Yer… yer pa killed yer ma?" he asked, swallowing hard.

"Yeah. An' if you ever open yer mouth," Johanna gestured threateningly with the gun.

"He ain't gonna say not'in," said Billy. He wiped the tears away with the back of his hand. "It weren't his bro who shot dat Purple Dragon. It was him. Juan knows how ta keep his mouth shut."

"Ya shot dat guy?" Johanna's blue gaze landed on Juan's face. He swallowed nervously.

"It… it was an accident," he said. "Da gun was Jose's. He was just lettin' me hold it. Da guy was mouthin' off… I just meant ta scare 'im. I… I didn't know it was loaded."

"Well, ain't dat interestin'?" said Johanna, smirking. "I guess yer one o' us now, Juan. Ya got blood on yer hands, just like our Pa." Juan swallowed hard. He hated being compared to Thomas Roberts, but he knew, deep in his heart, that it was true.

***

Cameron dipped the rag in the herb-steeped water again, and wet the turtle's forehead. The thing…_ Raphael_ thought Cameron. _It has a name. It's not just a critter fer Jo and Billy to hunt. Not like a deer or a rabbit. I wonder if its brother will come lookin' fer it?_ Raphael shifted on the cot, moaning softly. Cameron stared, fascinated, as its muscles rippled under the green skin.

Raphael's hands closed on the handles of the fork-shaped weapons tucked in his belt. Cameron backed away. He hadn't dared touch the weapons. His Pa sometimes slept with a hunting knife in a sheath at his belt. Cameron remembered that Billy had tried to take Pa's knife one night while he slept, and had nearly lost a hand for his trouble. He wasn't about to touch the turtle's weapons, even if it appeared unconscious. Feeling the sais still in place, Raphael's fevered stirring eased.

_It's almost like he knows they're still there an' it makes him feel safer,_ thought Cameron. _Well, I ain't gonna touch 'em. I just hope when he wakes up he doesn't try usin' em on me._

He picked up the rag, and approached the turtle again, bathing his forehead. He stared at the angry red streaks radiating from the bandage on the turtle's leg.

_Dat wound's infected. I bet he was in da river. Anyone from 'round here knows better dan ta swim in da river. I guess da turtle's not from 'round here. _Cautiously, glancing at the turtle, he reached for the bandage. His fingers barely brushed it when Raphael groaned again, shifting. Cameron jerked back, but when the amber searchlight eyes remained closed, he reached out more boldly, and sliced deftly through the knot with a quick swipe of his razor-sharp hunting knife.

He peeled the cloth back, gently unwrapping the binding. Taking a deep breath, he picked up the edge of the gauze, and lifted it. He gasped, recoiling at the smell as much as the sight of the wound. He could see that it had been crudely stitched up. _He musta done it hisself,_ Cameron thought incredulously. _Even Pa don't stitch hisself up. He'd get Jo to do it an' he'd need a good half bottle o' whiskey first. Dis turtle-guy's nuts._

Cameron went out and brought in more wood and stirred up the fire, adding wood patiently until the fire was blazing. Fetching the first-aid kit from the cupboard, he drew out the small blade and set it on the table. He set some water to boil. As soon as the water was bubbling rapidly, he used a spoon to dip the blade, sterilizing it. Returning to Raphael's side, he laid his hand on the turtle's leg below the wound, watching Raphael for a reaction. The turtle twitched, but his eyes stayed closed. Cameron gritted his teeth, and sliced through the stitching.

Once the stitches were cut, he picked the thread out of the skin, gently pushing the edges aside to allow the wound to open a bit. Yellow-ish green pus boiled up from inside the wound. Grimly, Cameron pressed down, forcing it out, and wiping it away with a clean rag. When all the infection had been cleaned out, he examined the wound again. The awful odor had mainly dissipated. The flesh was angry red, but to his relief, Cameron detected no smell of rotting meat that would've indicated gangrene. He soaked a clean cloth in the water, and washed the wound. Fetching more herbs, he dropped them into the boiling water, this time choosing those he knew would ease pain and cleanse the wound.

Cameron held his breath as he picked up the still-hot rag. He hesitated, his hands shaking. Finally, he drew a deep breath, and pressed it to the leg.

The effect was immediate. Raphael's amber eyes opened, and he sat straight up on the cot with a roar. His fist shot out like lightening, but Cameron was already halfway across the room, scrambling backward, out of reach. Years of living with his father had honed Cameron's reflexes and his self-preservation instincts to a fine art. Raphael clutched at the freshly-bleeding gash, growling low in his throat.

"Why, ya little…" His amber gaze tracked across the room to the trembling boy. Cameron got to his feet and stood, ready to dash for the door. Raph's eyes narrowed as he watched the boy. "What da shell da ya t'ink yer doin, Kid?" he grated out.

"I was cleanin' yer leg. Ya got it all infected. If ya don't let da infection out, it'll rot right off," said Cameron, his chin coming up.

"How'd ya get outta the ropes?"

"I cut 'em."

"How come ya didn't just run off again?" Those golden eyes were eerie. Cameron shivered, but didn't look away.

"'Cause if I left, ya woulda died," he said. Seeing that Raphael made no move to get up from the cot, he relaxed marginally. "Ya were burnin' up. Yer leg is infected. Ya musta swallowed summa da water out o' da river. Everybody knows not ta swim in da river."

"Why?"

"It's polluted. The companies aroun' here, they used ta dump all their stuff in it. The gover'ment stopped it abou' thirty years ago, but the river's still dirty." Raphael's eyes narrowed.

"Why didn't ya just leave me ta die, Kid?"

"I… I dunno," said Cameron. Suddenly he was very tired. He sank down into one of the chairs. "Are… are ya gonna tie me up again?" He fought back the tears that stung his eyes.

"Nah. I guess if ya were gonna run off ya'd be gone already," said Raph gruffly. "Besides, ya ruined da rope."

In spite of his fear, Cameron grinned. "Sorry."

The golden eyes danced with laughter. "Yer all right, Kid. Who taught ya ta doctor up wounds?"

"My ma taught my brother, an' he taught me. She knew all kinds o' stuff about da woods, what to eat an' what not ta eat, an' how ta use da plants ta treat fevers an' stuff."

"Knew? Is she…"

"Yeah. I… I don't remember her much," said Cameron. "I was almost nine."

"I'm sorry, Kid. My Sensei, Splinter, he knows about herbs an' stuff, too. He's real wise. I bet yer ma was like him."

Cameron found himself blushing. He ducked his head, not knowing what to say.

"Are… are ya hungry?" he asked finally.

"Yeah." Raphael sounded surprised. "Yeah, I am."

"I can fetch us another rabbit. I set da snare las' night."

The turtle's eyes narrowed. "How long was I out?"

"Since yesterday. Ya slept all night, an' it's late now. It'll git dark soon."

"You been takin' care o' me all dis time?"

"Yeah."

"T'anks, Kid."

Cameron smiled, the words warming him. "I'll go check da snare," he said. Raphael nodded his permission, and Cameron slipped out the door.

"Well, I'll be," said Raph softly, leaning back on the cot.

He lay there for a while, considering. With the kid's care, his leg was finally starting to feel better. The pain was deep and stabbing, but it was beginning to ease already. The sharper pain was gone, and the familiar deep ache of healing muscle amd developing scar tissue replaced it. Raphael smiled.

_Da kid oughta be a doctor. He's got a real knack. Kinda like Donny,_ he thought. _Too bad his bro's a shell-fer-brains._

Raphael sat up with a gasp, his hands closing reflexively on his sais as the door burst open. Cameron flew into the cabin, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. He stared at Raphael, wild-eyed.

"They're comin'!" he whimpered.

"Who's comin', Kid?"

"My brother, an' his friend. My sister, Johanna, too. Raphael, ya gotta get outta here. They got guns!"


	9. Chapter 9 Kidnapped

**A/N: I considered moving some bits of this chap around, but I like events in the order they appear, so... here ya go. Let me know if you like/don't like the way I've done this, switching from one POV to another. Sorry, another cliffy. Or not sorry, whatever. heh**

**And Leo, don't worry, everybody pronounces it wrong. It's the first clue someone's not from the area. You should hear what they do with "Apalachin". LOL  
**

**Thanks for reviewing!**

**

* * *

**_Chapter 9 -Kidnapped-  
~~~_

"Be careful, guys."

"We will, April. Don't worry."

"Leo, you can't leave me here!" Michelangelo practically danced with frustration.

"Mikey, your arm isn't healed. And besides, who's going to guard the Lair if we all go upstate? And what if Raph comes back? He might need help, medical attention. Somebody's got to stay here."

"You just don't want to ride wit' Mikey in da van fer six hours, do ya?" asked Casey in a stage whisper. Leonardo looked into the blue eyes peering into his through the window of the rented van.

"It's not true, Mikey," he said soothingly. _Yes, actually, it is._ "We need you here, bro."

"Ok." Michelangelo's defeated look almost changed Leonardo's mind.

Don cleared his throat. "Well, we've got to get rolling."

Leo shot his brother a grateful look. "Yeah. We'll be back before you know it, Mikey."

"Ok, guys. Be careful."

"Don't worry, Mike. We'll be ok," promised Leonardo. He tried not to watch the blue eyes staring after them in the rear-view mirror as they pulled away.

"So, how come we're drivin' dis hunka junk?" asked Casey. "Why didn't ya just bring da Battle Shell?"

"Do you think it might be a little conspicuous?" asked Don sarcastically. "We want to blend, not have every redneck hick in town trying to hunt us down."

"Hey! I resemble that remark," groused Casey.

Leonardo rustled the paper unnecessarily as he turned the map, searching. "Don, are you sure this is the right way? I think we should've taken that exit back there…"

"I'm _sure_, Leo," said Donatello. "I planned the route carefully. This way is shorter. That exit takes us ten miles out of the way."

"But this will take us straight through this little town," complained Leonardo. "O-weg-o... We're trying to avoid people, Don."

"It's pronounced 'O-wee-go', Leo. We're _trying_ to find Raph. Besides, it's a little town, and we're not stopping. The windows are tinted. As long as we avoid drawing attention to ourselves, it'll be fine."

"Which is why we didn't bring the Battle Shell, I know," said Casey. He leaned back in the seat and stared out the tinted window. "Man, six hours, huh? I don't suppose you brought any decent tunes?"

"Oh, no," said Donatello under his breath. "I am _not_ listening to Casey's music for six hours."

"Don't worry, Don. I asked April to get us one with a broken CD player," said Leonardo calmly.

Donatello laughed. "Good thinking, bro."

Casey scowled. "I ain't gotta come, ya know. I could stay here in my nice apartment an' listen ta CD's all day."

"What, and miss all the fun, Casey?" Leonardo needled.

"Nah. I guess not," said Casey. "I can't leave my best bud hangin' out in da middle o' nowhere."

The thought of Raph, injured and alone, in the upstate wilderness, sobered them. They drove in silence for several hours.

"Leo, you do realize this could be a wild goose chase, don't you?" asked Donatello quietly.

Leonardo scowled. "No, Don. We're going to find Raphael. We're going to bring him home. I'm not going home without him."

No one spoke again for a long time.

***

April sighed, walking through the sewers with a silent Michelangelo. Usually she would have thought the quiet was a welcome respite from Mikey's constant chatter, but the slump of his shoulders and the dullness of his usually sparkling blue eyes were heart-breaking.

"They'll be back in a couple days, Mikey," she said softly.

"I know."

"They'll find Raph."

"I… I hope so, April."

Without warning, he stopped short. April turned, startled. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." His voice was choked, and he sniffed. April's eyes widened with understanding.

"Oh, Mikey." She wrapped her arms around him, drawing him close to her. Michelangelo yelped, flinching, and April remembered his arm, an instant too late.

"I'm sorry, Mike!" She let him go, but his good arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her against his plastron. His face pressed against her shoulder. April gently put her arms around his shell, careful to avoid his injury.

"'s ok," he whispered. She stood that way, holding him close, for a long time. Finally he released her. He wouldn't meet her eyes, and she saw red creeping up his cheeks. She touched his arm, and he glanced at her.

"Come on, Mike," she said. He gave her a wan smile, and leaned into her slightly. He let her lead him through the sewers, toward home.

***

"Move that junk outta da way!" yelled Hun. "Those cases will be here in two days, you morons. We've gotta have room ta store 'em!"

"Sir."

"Whatdaya want, Sullivan?" The mountain-man spun to face the Dragon who dared interrupt his tirade.

"The vigilante and the turtles were seen leaving town in a van."

"Really? Perfect." Hun grinned. "They're still searching for their missing brother. Have there been any reports? Any sightings?"

"No, Sir."

"Good. Maybe we're finally rid of _Raphael_." He spat the name.

Sullivan shifted, balancing on the balls of his feet, as if preparing to dodge a blow. Hun knew that stance. It usually indicated the person was about to deliver bad news.

"What?" he growled.

"Well… It's just… only two turtles were in the van. Our guy said the windows were tinted, so he couldn't be sure, but he didn't think the other one was with them." Hun swore, and Sullivan flinched, but to his credit, didn't run.

"_Nothing_ can go wrong with this deal," growled Hun. "Do ya hear me? _Nothing!"_

Sullivan returned his glare calmly. "What if we… created a distraction of our own?" he suggested smoothly.

"Whatdaya mean?"

"Well, the disappearance of one member of their team seemed to send the turtles into a panic. What if someone else, someone close to them, were to disappear? What if we had… a bargaining chip?"

"What do you have in mind, Sullivan?" Hun's eyes narrowed. The man smiled. This should be worth a promotion.

"April O'Neil."

Hun stared for a moment. Sullivan's confidence began to waver. He wondered if he'd just made a grave miscalculation. Suggestions which were deemed less than worthy by the boss could prove hazardous to one's health. Then a smirk spread across Hun's face.

"You know what, Sullivan, you might have an idea there. Yes. In fact, I'm putting _you_ in charge of the operation. Bring the O'Neil woman to me. We'll keep her until after the deal is done. A little insurance. Yeah, that's a great idea."

"You've got it, boss," said Sullivan, allowing himself the tiniest of smiles. If this went well, he'd be rewarded he was sure. Maybe Hun would even let him keep the O'Neil woman around for a while, as a reward. Sullivan's smile widened. Yes, good ideas were always rewarded.

"Go. Now," said Hun. "Take whoever you think you need." Sullivan nodded. He turned on his heel and headed out into the darkening city.

***

April sat through two horror movies and encouraged Michelangelo to eat a second piece of pizza. He sat, dejected on the couch, and refused. April reached out and touched his forehead, checking for a fever. He felt normal, but he turned his head away from her hand, annoyed, in a completely un-Mikey-like gesture. _He's acting more like Raph than himself_, thought April.

"Michelangelo," she said. He glanced at her. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, April." Mikey sniffed. "I'm ok. I… I just miss the guys, ya know? I… I miss Raph." The last was so near a whisper, April almost didn't hear.

"I know, Mikey. I'm worried about him, too," she said, reaching out and taking his hand in hers.

"I ain't worried!" said Mike quickly. "I mean, Raph's tough. He can take care of himself. He's fine."

"I know he is," said April quietly. "Remember that time Hun had him for over a week? I don't think there was an inch of him that wasn't bruised, but he was up and beating up his punching bag in two days. He's amazing."

"Yeah. And he kicked the shell outta Hun the next time we went out," said Michelangelo, smiling at the memory. "I don't think Hun knew what hit him."

"He's going to be ok, Mikey. They'll bring him back," said April softly. Michelangelo nodded. April pretended not to notice the stray tear that trickled down his cheek.

"It's gettin' late. You want me ta walk ya home, April?"

"No, Mikey, that's ok. It's only a few blocks from the warehouse," said April. She smiled as the orange-banded turtle yawned. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

"Leo'll de-shell me if anything happens to you," protested Mikey sleepily.

"Mike, I'll be fine. Go to bed," insisted April.

Michelangelo stood up. "Nah, I should walk ya home," he said, his words slurring with exhaustion.

_The injury and all this worrying about Raph is really taking its toll on him_, thought April. _He's half-asleep on his feet._

"Come on, Mike," she said softly, taking his arm. She led him up the stairs, and to his room.

"I'll walk ya home, April…" Michelangelo mumbled. April shook her head, smiling, and pushed him down on the bed. She gently pushed his shoulders back, making him lay down on the pillow. Tenderly, she slipped his mask off, and hung it on the hook above his bed. "Walk… ya…home…" His blue eyes fluttered closed.

"Get some sleep, Mikey," whispered April, pulling the blanket up around his shoulders.

She tiptoed out of the Lair, careful not to disturb Splinter. She knew he'd insist she not walk home alone, either. _These guys worry too much_, she thought. _Good grief, I've lived in this city my entire life. I can walk a few blocks by myself._

She pushed the button for the elevator, and waited while the massive steel door slid open. She stepped inside, and in a few moments was on the street, heading home. April had gone only two blocks when she heard the noise. It sounded like someone walking… Someone… following her. She picked up her pace, glancing nervously over her shoulder.

A man was walking on the street, half a block behind her. He was wearing blue jeans and a white tee-shirt. April frowned. Was that a tattoo on the man's arm? She picked up her pace, but he didn't speed up or try to catch up with her.

_Relax, O'Neil. He's just walking home, just like you. Not everyone in the city is a mugger,_ she told herself. Still, she clutched her bag closer, and mentally reviewed the self-defense techniques Leonardo had been teaching her. _I'll feel better as soon as I get to my apartment building… Maybe I should've let Mikey walk me home after all. I didn't realize how much I depend on the guys to walk me safely home after dark,_ she mused.

April was so focused on keeping track of the man behind her, she was completely unprepared for the arm that shot out of the space between two buildings, catching her across the neck and dragging her into the shadows. A hand clamped over her mouth, cutting her scream short, and more hands caught at her wrists. To her horror, someone grabbed her knees, hugging them tightly and lifting her off the ground.

A cloth binding was tied over her mouth, and ropes were wound snuggly around her wrists, knees and ankles. Within moments she lay bound and helpless on the pavement. April squirmed, wriggling against the bonds, but it was no use. She was trapped. She stared up with wide green eyes at the men surrounding her. Purple tattoos showed under several shirts. One man leaned over her, smiling.

"Good evening, Miss O'Neil." April had only an instant to stare into his cold, colorless eyes before something struck her hard on the back of the head, and the world was plunged into darkness.


	10. Chapter 10 Coming

**A/N: And you thought the last two cliffys were bad...  
All I'm gonna say is... happy reading.  
;) **

* * *

_Chapter 10 -Coming-  
~~~_

"Hurry it up, can't ya?" Johanna was moving fast now, eager to reach the cabin before dark. "We'll never git there at dis rate."

"Jo, I'm tellin' ya, dat turtle ain't gonna be there," panted Billy. "Why would he go ta da cabin?"

"Ya said it's more human dan animal," said Jo. "Billy, think, ya dimwit. If ya were hurt, lost in da woods an' confused an' ya climbed outta da river, where would ya go? Ya'd look fer water, right? An da stream leads to da cabin. Shelter, food… it just makes sense."

"But what if Cameron was there?" Billy's face was pale, sweating.

"If Cameron was there, dude, he's dead," said Juan.

Billy whirled, the gun coming up reflexively. "My brother's _fine_," he snarled.

Juan stumbled back a step, holding up his hands. "Billy, watch where yer pointin' dat t'ing!"

Billy lowered the shotgun slowly. "Cameron's _fine_," he said again, glaring.

"He'd better be. If dat turtle-thing kills him, Pa's gonna skin you," said Johanna, grinning.

Billy's face was pale. A wild look came into his eyes. "Cameron's fine," he said. "I don't care about Pa. If dat turtle hurt Cameron, there won't be enough left of it to sell."

***

Raphael sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the cot with a hiss of pain. Cameron's wide blue eyes met his amber gaze.

"Kid. I can't run," he said. "Can ya lock da door somehow?"

"There's no latch. Raphael, you've gotta get outta here. They'll find you! I… I don't want 'em ta shoot ya." The boy's eyes filled with tears. "I don't want ya ta die. Not like my Ma."

"I ain't gonna die, Kid," said Raph grimly, fingering his sais. "It ain't da first time somebody tried huntin' me."

"What're ya gonna do? Ya ain't gonna hurt my brother an' sister!" cried Cameron. He held himself tense, as if he would throw his body at Raphael, but his eyes fastened onto the sais in Raph's hands and he froze.

"Nah, I ain't gonna hurt 'em if I can help it," said Raph. "But yer gonna hafta keep 'em outta here."

"I can't. They were headed this way, right for the cabin. Raphael, you're gonna hafta run."

"If yer sister's a hunter, she'll just track me," said Raph.

Cameron frowned. "Yer right. They know somebody's here. They'll just keep searchin da woods til they find ya."

"What if I wasn't in da woods?" asked Raph. "What if I hide up in da loft?"

"It could work," said Cameron slowly. "I'll hafta fold up da cot. Mebbe I can make 'em believe it's just me here. They'll go look fer ya somewhere else an' ya can get away."

Raph got slowly to his feet. He tucked his sais back into his belt, and climbed the ladder to the loft, groaning softly as his leg protested the movement.

"Wait. Here." Cameron handed up a bundle of torn rags and gauze. "You should wrap up dat leg," he said seriously. "Don't get no more dirt in it."

"Ok, t'anks." He made it to the top of the ladder, and crawled as far back as he could into the loft, crouching down into the shadows. He heard Cameron scurrying around down below, hiding the evidence of his presence.

Restless and in need of a distraction, Raph pressed the gauze against the wound, hissing with pain. He wrapped the torn rags Cameron had given him tightly around his thigh, binding the edges of the gash together and tying the strapping in place to support the injured muscles. There. He thought he could walk reasonably well now, though running and jumping would be out of the question for a while.

He crawled to the darkest corner of the loft and huddled there, his plastron pressed to the floor, facing the cabin so that he could just see the door. He heard the cupboard door open and close and the clatter of wood pegs as Cameron packed up the cot and stuffed it back under the bed. The stove door clanged as Cameron stirred the fire, stoking it. The pan rattled.

"Raphael?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna go out an' skin da rabbit, ok?"

"What for?" Raphael's eyes narrowed. Was the kid trying to get outside so he could betray him? But why would he have warned Raph they were coming?

"'Cause it'll seem normal. If I run off, they'll know somethin's up. I wouldn't hide from them, not usually. They don't know I know they're comin'. I gotta do what I'd be doin' if I didn't know they were comin', or they'll figure somethin's goin' on."

"Ok, Kid. Be careful."

"They're my family," said Cameron quietly. "I'm always careful 'round 'em."

Raphael watched the door open and close as Cameron left the cabin. He moved to the window, opening it a crack, so he could hear what was going on outside. Looking over, he saw that Cameron had left the front door open, giving him a view of anyone who approached the cabin. Raph smirked, fingering his sais.

He could see Cameron in front of the cabin, a ways off, near the tree line. He knelt and began skinning and deboning the rabbit. Raph watched with interest while the boy's knife flashed. Soon a small red pile lay at his feet. The boy stood up and kicked dirt and leaves over the scant remains. He carried the meat to the pump and rinsed it. He brought it inside, closing the door softly behind him.

"Leave it open, Kid," said Raph.

"Ok." Cameron opened the door, glancing nervously toward the path leading to the cabin.

"Are they comin'?"

"Yeah." The boy nodded, not lifting his eyes. He picked up the large pot and fetched some water. Raph stared out the door, ignoring the boy now as he cut up the meat and dropped it into the water. He heard him clanging the pot around on the stove.

Raph had a clear view of the first two approaching the cabin. A blond boy with an overgrown thatch of hair, and a shorter, dark-haired boy walked slowly toward the door. Raphael's eyes narrowed.

_Where's da girl? Cameron mentioned a sister._ The blond boy had a shotgun resting casually over his arm. Raph frowned. _Guns. This isn't good. I'd better just stay out of sight._ The dark-haired boy glanced nervously over his shoulder as they crossed the clearing. _She's in the woods, holding back._ Raph realized. _Sneaky._

The blond boy strode boldly up to the cabin. "Cameron," he called. Cameron's head snapped up as if he were startled.

_Heh. The kid's a good actor._

"Billy! Juan. What're ya doin' here?" asked Cameron nervously, fingering the hunting knife.

"We're… we was worried about ya," said Billy. Raph noticed how his blue eyes scanned the inside of the cabin as he spoke.

"I'm ok, Billy. Just… hangin' out, ya know?"

"Pa's gonna be mad."

"Yer not gonna tell 'im I'm here, are ya?" Cameron's voice shook. Raph scowled. He wanted five minutes with the kid's father.

"Nah," said Billy. "Hey, Cameron, have ya seen… anyt'ing out here?"

"Whatdaya mean? I got a couple rabbits. There's a doe hangin' around down in da pines an' I t'ink dat big tom turkey Jo's been after's roostin' out back."

"Nah, I mean… somet'in… weird. We… we found some tracks down by da river. They don't look like any critter I've seen before. Ya haven't seen anything… different, around have ya?"

"No." The kid went back to his stew, stirring it. The spoon rattled against the edge of the pot. His hand was trembling.

"Are ya sure, Cameron? I mean… Look, I'll be straight wit' ya, 'cause yer my brother, ok?"

"Yeah, Billy?"

"It's… it's a big ol' turtle. Juan and I… we kinda… found it. We had it in da back o' da truck, but it fell out somehow. We've been trackin' it. Jo thinks it mighta come in here."

"Nah, Billy, I ain't seen no big turtle. What da ya want wit' a turtle, anyway? There're plenty o' snappers in da river."

Raphael watched as a slim, tall blond woman slipped into the cabin. Her blue eyes, the same blue as Cameron's and Billy's, searched the small room. She set her gun down by the door and sidled into the room behind her brothers and the other boy.

"Dis turtle's different," said Billy, sounding exasperated. "It's special, an' Jo says it's worth a lot of money."

Cameron snorted. "Jo's always tryin' ta t'ink o' ways ta make money," he said.

"Darn right I am, little brother."

Cameron jumped. "Jo!"

"Yeah," she sneered. "Now, quit messin' around, Cameron. Where's da turtle?"

"How should I know?" The boy's voice rose, cracking.

"You never could lie worth a darn. Where're ya hidin' it? Tell me, Cameron, or I'll tell Pa where you've been hidin' out from him. He'll beat da hide right offa yer back."

"Don't do dat, Jo! Ya know how Pa gets. I jus' need ta get away sometimes. Ya can't tell 'im I've been usin' da cabin!"

"Tell us where da turtle is, Cameron. We're yer family. Ya gotta tell us."

"I don't know!"

"Yer a slimy little liar." Her hand shot out, and she slapped him, hard.

"I am not!" yelled Cameron, glaring at her defiantly. Raphael half-rose, but sank back down, stifling his growl.

"Ya are an' ya have been since da day ya were born. I heard ya tell Billy ya trapped two rabbits. Ya only been here since yesterday. How many rabbits da ya t'ink yer gonna eat by yerself?"

"I… I burnt da first one. An' it weren't very big."

"We saw da pelt on da way up here, Cameron. It were plenty fer a day or two, if it were just you eatin'. Yer feedin' somet'in."

"I… I tossed da rest out. It's been warm. It don't keep."

"Thought ya said ya burnt it?" The girl sneered, grabbing Cameron's shirt and hauling him forward. Her fist met his chin with a sharp _crack_.

"Jo, cut it out!" yelled Billy.

"He's hidin' somet'in!" _Smack_. "I can tell. I can _always _tell." _Smack._

Cameron was whimpering now. Jo drew her fist back, and planted it solidly in the boy's gut. He doubled over, moaning softly and dropping to the ground with a thud. The girl lifted her foot to kick him.

Raphael had seen enough. He was on his feet in an instant. Not bothering with the ladder, he jumped down from the loft, doing a neat flip in the air and landing behind the very startled teenagers. He whipped around to face them, his sais drawn, a growl in his throat. He felt something hot and wet trickle down his leg as the wound burst open again, but he ignored the pain, glowering at the pale trio. The dark-haired boy scrambled backward, out of the way. The other two stared, their mouths hanging open.

"Billy, da gun! Shoot it! _Shoot it!_" shouted the girl. Cameron rolled over and crawled away toward the bed, forgotten in the commotion.

"Why don'tcha pick on somebody who can fight _back_?" roared Raph. His amber eyes went wide as he saw the boy, Billy, lift the muzzle of the gun, pointing it directly at him. He saw the boy's finger move, and he dodged aside just as the gun roared, rolling to his feet. Before the kid could take fresh aim, Raph kicked the gun out of his hand. He heard a distinct _snap_, and Billy screamed, clutching at his wrist.

"Billy, you idiot," screamed Jo.

_Dis might be a good time ta get outta here,_ decided Raph. He dodged around the shrieking girl, heading for the door. If Raph had been up to his full speed and strength, he would have easily escaped. A heavy weight crashed into the back of his shell, and he staggered, his injured leg betraying him. He fell heavily to the floor, landing flat on his plastron, the air driven from his lungs.

"Billy, help me!" yelled Jo.

"Get offa my shell!" roared Raph, furiously heaving, trying to throw the girl off. She clung on like a leech. Another weight landed heavily across Raph's legs, pinning him. He cried out with pain, dragging himself forward as if he could crawl out from under the weight crushing his injured leg to the floor.

"Leave 'im alone!" yelled Cameron. Raphael's head swam with pain and lack of oxygen. The girl on his back was crushing the air from his lungs, suffocating him. She grabbed his wrists, trying to pin his hands to the floor. He yanked and squirmed, desperate to get his weapons loose. The blond boy knelt on his elbow, effectively restraining one arm. Raph tried desperately to stab the boy with the sai in his other hand, but Jo was doing an efficient job of holding him back.

She couldn't quite hold him still. He yanked away from her, and drove his sai into the boy's side. Billy screamed, falling back, clutching at the gash. Raph smiled with satisfaction. He'd felt the point of the sai hit a rib and slide along it, so he knew the boy wasn't badly wounded, but he'd think twice before getting with in reach of Raph's sais again.

The girl threw herself forward, putting all her weight into crushing Raph's wrists to the floor. He pitched and bucked, trying to roll to the side and throw her off his back, but she was wiry.

"Billy, _get the gun_," she yelled.

The boy staggered to his feet, his eyes wild. He ran to the door and snatched up the rifle. Cocking it awkwardly with one hand, he pointed it at the struggling turtle. Raph looked up, and froze. He could see quite a long way down the barrel, into the small black den where death waited.


	11. Chapter 11 Chained

**A/N: Raph... I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. **

* * *

_Chapter 11 -Chained-  
~~~_

Raph stopped struggling and waited, his eyes open and his face passive, for death to come flaming out of the gun barrel. The boy's finger tightened on the trigger, but he didn't shoot. The girl moved, jerking Raph's hands.

"Drop them knives," she ordered. Raph growled, but slowly his hands opened, releasing his precious sais. He hissed with pain, but didn't resist, his eyes still on the gun, as she leaned backward, yanking his wrists back, behind his shell.

"Gimme that rope, Cameron," she said. Raph heard slow, shuffling steps approaching but he didn't take his eyes off the boy holding the shotgun.

_Don't do it, Kid…_ He felt ropes winding tightly around his wrists, binding them together. He started to struggle again, but Billy's finger twitched and he froze.

"Hey, Kid. Billy," Raph tried to keep his voice steady, but it wasn't easy. "Ya mind pointin' dat t'ing somewhere else?"

"Don't you dare, Billy," snapped Johanna, tying the last knot. "Ya saw what it's like. Keep it covered." Finally she got up, releasing the pressure on Raph's shell. He took a deep breath.

"At least get offa my leg," he growled, twisting to glare over his shoulder at the dark-haired boy. The kid scrambled to his feet and backed away, looking nervous. The blond girl was standing now, smirking down at Raph. He rolled to his back and sat up painfully.

"You just stay still, Turtle," said the girl. She snatched the gun from her brother's hands and pointed it expertly at Raph's chest.

"Da name's Raphael, Kid," he said, glaring right back.

She laughed, a short bark. "It _does_ talk. You boys have stumbled on a _gold mine_."

"I ain't nobody's meal ticket," growled Raph. "If ya know what's good fer ya, ya'll put dat gun down 'fore somebody gets hurt."

"I don't think so, Turtle," sneered the girl. "Billy, you ok?"

"He busted my arm," said the boy, sinking into one of the chairs.

"I'll bust more than yer arm, if ya don't take these ropes off," growled Raphael. The boy scowled.

"Yer in no place ta talk, Turtle," said Jo, gesturing with the gun. "If ya don't shut up, we'll gag ya."

"Try it," warned Raph. "I dare ya." He rocked back on his shell and threw himself forward, gaining his feet with one quick jump. The rifle roared and Raph leapt aside, but the floor exploded near his foot, sending a shower of slivers up. Several of them dug into his leg.

"What's da matter wit' you, Jo?" yelled Billy.

"I _said_, stay put, Turtle," snapped the girl, ramming a second bullet into the chamber and pointing the gun at the pale turtle. "Juan, in da cupboard, there's a chain. Get it."

"What? Don't you dare…" Raph glared, but subsided as the gun came up.

"Whatdaya want me ta do wit' it?" asked Juan. He swallowed hard, with Raph's golden eyes on him.

"Put it 'round his neck. We gotta have a way ta lead him around."

"You come near me wit' dat chain an' I'll stuff it down yer throat." Raph watched the boy turn several shades paler.

"I ain't gettin' near dat t'ing, Jo," said Juan.

Johanna glared. "Cameron, _you_ do it. Ya ain't scared o' 'im."

"I ain't doin' it, Jo. I ain't puttin' a chain on him like some kinda… some kinda dog!"

"Ya'll do as yer told!" shouted Jo, glaring at her brother.

"No!" Cameron stood up, his fists clenched at his sides. Johanna strode across the room, keeping the barrel of the gun trained on Raph as she grabbed the boy's shirt, lifting him off his feet.

"Ya'll do as yer _told_," she hissed.

Raph's swinging kick was awkward with his hands tied. He caught her shoulder rather than her head as he'd been aiming for. She dropped Cameron with a squawk. The gun went off again and Billy hit the floor with a shout. The bullet tore into the wall near the door. Raphael landed awkwardly on his injured leg and fell to the floor with a _crash_. He rolled onto his plastron and scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain that shot through his leg. The gun was pointing squarely at him again, but he glared at Johanna.

"Leave da kid _alone_," he grated.

"Why you…" her eyes narrowed, her hand tightening on the gun.

_Aw shell…_

"Jo, what's _wrong_ wit' you!" shouted Billy. "Ya near took my head off!"

"It kicked me," yelled Jo right back. "An' it ain't gonna do it again!" She lowered the rifle, aiming for Raph's leg. He jumped back.

_From dis range, she'll take off half my leg!_ He made a dash for the door, knowing he couldn't out run a bullet, knowing it was no use…

The gun went off and a cry escaped him as he crashed into the edge of the door, rolling to the ground. Raph waited a heartbeat for the impact, for the burning pain, but it didn't come. Slowly, he drew a deep breath and opened his eyes.

Cameron was standing in front of his sister, holding the gun in both hands. "If ya _shoot_ it, Jo, how're ya gonna _sell_ it?" he demanded.

"I was gonna shoot it in da _leg_, ya little idiot," snarled Johanna, snatching the gun back.

"It almost _died_ already, Jo. It's gotta hurt leg, an' it had a fever. I doctored it up, but if ya go _shootin'_ it, there ain't enough herbs in da woods ta make it well again." Cameron turned away from her with a snort of disgust. "I t'ought ya were smarter'n dat." He shot Raph a look as he met his gaze. _I'm sorry._

Raphael's eyes widened. _Well I'll be. Da kid's tryin' ta save me._ The girl stalked across the cabin toward him and Raphael scrambled back. His shell came up against the door frame and he could go no further.

"Don't worry, _turtle_," sneered the girl. "I ain't gonna shoot ya. Cameron's right, we can't risk ya dyin'." She reached down and caught his elbow. Raph snarled, twisting to jerk away, but she yanked him to his feet. "We'll stay here tonight. Dis _t'ing_ can sleep outside," she snapped, sweeping the boys with her eyes. "Juan, gimme dat chain and come on. Ya can hold da gun while I truss it up."

"Ya ain't puttin' dat chain on me!" snapped Raph, jerking away from her.

"Would ya rather I shot yer leg so ya can't run off?" she asked, aiming the gun at his kneecap. Raph glared at her, feeling the blood drain from his face. She smiled with satisfaction. "I didn't t'ink so. Juan, come on."

"I don't know about dis, Jo," said Juan, but he picked up the chain. Raph's glare stopped him and he swallowed hard.

"Ya just gotta hold da gun, ya big wuss," said Jo.

The boy came forward, skirting Raph. Raph's amber eyes tracked him, daring him to so much as touch him.

Johanna sneered. "Come on, turtle," she said, jabbing his plastron with the muzzle of the gun. "Let's go."

"Where ya takin' me?"

"Outside. Now move."

_Not like I gotta choice. She'll shoot me if I push her._ He walked out the door, half turned, keeping an eye on the humans. She motioned. "Out back, to the lean-to."

Raph walked out to the small woodshed and stood where she indicated. The girl handed the gun to Juan. Raphael felt a surge of hope. If he could just kick the gun out of the boy's hands… but Juan swung the barrel toward him and held it steadily with the hands of experience._ Shell. He'd shoot me before I could dodge._

Raph flinched as Jo's hands touched his shell, wrapping the chain about his neck like a collar. He bared his teeth at her, but she just smirked.

"Ya bite me, turtle, an' it won't be yer knee I shoot," she warned. Raph subsided with a furious glare. She snapped a small padlock into place, effectively locking him into the chain. She attached the other end to a post of the lean-to in the same way.

"There. It's a good t'ing Pa had dis chain from when he had dat ol' hound. Ya just make yerself comfortable, now. We'll hike outta here in da mornin'"

"What da shell am I supposed ta do? Sit out here an' wait fer ya like yer pet dog?" he growled.

"Nah, ya'll sit out here an' wait fer us like our pet _goldmine_," she said, grinning maniacally. "Come on, Juan. He ain't goin' no where."

"Ya sure he won't just pull da lean-to down?"

"Nah. Dat's a eight-inch treated post, an' it's buried in concrete twenty-four inches deep. It ain't goin' nowhere."

_Don't count on it. I bet I can break da chain…_

Johanna gave him one last smirk and turned to go back inside the cabin. Juan fairly scuttled after her. Raph heard voices inside, arguing. Cameron's voice went high and loud with anger.

"Ya can't treat 'im like dat, Jo!"

There was a _smack_ and the boy cried out in pain. Raph growled, lunging at the chain, but it stopped him short with a jerk that dug the links into his neck.

_Ok. Don't jerk the chain. Gotcha._ More shouting and the boy ran out into the yard.

"Cameron! Cameron, get back here!" yelled Johanna, but the boy disappeared into the night.

"Now lookit whatcha done, Jo." Billy's voice came clearly through the open door. "He done run off in da dark!"

"So let 'im," snapped Johanna. "He'll think twice about runnin' off ag'in, if he hasta sleep out fer da night. It gets darn cold out there at night. It'll make 'im appreciate havin' a bed ta sleep in."

"What if a coyote or something gets after 'im?"

"He can climb a tree like a squirrel. He'll be fine."

"What about da turtle? Ya t'ink it'll be ok out there? Mebbe we oughta give it a blanket er somet'in."

"It's just a critter, Billy. Quit talkin' like it's a person. It prolly sleeps outside all da time. It'll be fine."

"What if Cameron comes back? He might try settin' it loose."

"He wouldn't dare. 'Sides, ya saw what it's like. He gets near it, it'll tear him ta bits."

"I dunno, Jo, he was doctorin' it up. An' it kicked ya when ya smacked 'im. I t'ink it likes him."

"Hmm… Well, tomorrow we'll get 'im back. Mebbe he can help us keep it under control. It won't fight us if we got da kid."

"Jo! He's yer brother!"

"Yeah, an' he's gonna do what he's told, Billy. If da critter likes 'im, it won't want 'im gettin' hurt. It'll cooperate wit' us to protect 'im. Like Ma used ta listen ta Pa so he wouldn't hit us, get it?"

_Why you stinkin' rotten…_ Raphael pulled at the chain, wishing he could yank it loose.

"Yer just like Pa, Jo. Yer _worse'n _Pa." Billy's voice was quiet, cold.

"Now yer getting smart, Billy. Ya gotta be tough ta survive in dis world. Ya gotta take what ya can get. Get some sleep. Tomorrow we'll start gettin' rich. You'll see, Billy. I'll take care of ya."

_Yeah, well, who's gonna take care of _me_?_ thought Raph. He sank to the ground, cursing as his leg screamed at the movement. _Leo… I wish ya were here, bro. Donny… Boy I could use a needle-full o' yer painkillers about now. And Mikey… Am I ever gonna see yer goofy grin again?_ He shifted backward until his shell rested against the post. He leaned against it experimentally. It was solid as a mountain, unmoving.

_Shell. I guess I ain't gonna bust da post after all. But mebbe I can bust da chain._ He wriggled around until he felt it trailing down over his shell. He grasped it in his hands, tugging. It cut into his skin, but he pulled harder. _If I could just twist it around…_ He twisted back and forth, but the chain held, the links tearing into his hands. He yanked in frustration and yelled as the pain stabbed. Getting to his feet, he backed to the end of the chain and yanked. It got him no more than a slicing pain across his neck. Raph pulled again and again, until the blood was running down his neck, pooling in the top of his plastron.

"Hey, don't do that!" The hissing voice came out of the dark, startling him so badly, he almost fell over. He turned with a growl, searching the blackness.

"It's me." he felt a hand on his arm and jerked away, crouching, preparing himself to spring. "Raphael! It's me, Cameron." The boy's voice squeaked.

Raphael relaxed. "What're ya doin' here, Kid?"

"I came ta get ya loose," whispered the boy.

"How're ya gonna do that? Yer sister has da key."

"I dunno. Mebbe I can sneak in an' get it."

"I don't want ya gettin' hurt on my account, Cameron."

"It's ok, Raphael. I can't let 'em sell ya. My sister, she's crazy an' my Pa, he's crazy an' _mean_. If they take ya home ta him, I dunno, he might just shoot ya an' sell yer body."

Raphael shivered in the warm night air. "Do ya t'ink ya can get da key wit'out wakin' 'em up, Kid?"

"I can try." The boy slipped away in the darkness. Raph strained and could just hear his footsteps moving to the front of the cabin. After what seemed like an eternity, the boy returned.

"Didja get it, Kid?"

"I can't. She's got da cot across da door like you did. I can't get in. If I try, I'll wake Jo up."

Raphael cursed. "Well, ya tried, Kid. T'anks fer dat."

"I ain't leavin' ya like dis!"

"Ya got to, Kid. I heard yer sister talkin'. She wants ta use ya ta make me listen ta dem. She figures if she threatens ya, I won't fight her."

"But ya don't care… I mean, ya'll fight anyway, won'tcha?"

Raphael sighed. "No, Kid. I couldn't let her hurt ya. I'd have to let 'em take me."

"Raphael…" The boy's voice was thick, choked.

_Aw, shell, he's cryin'._

"It's ok, Kid," said Raph gruffly. "Just get outta here, ok? Get away from 'em, so they can't hurt ya."

"No. I ain't leavin' ya. Yer da only friend I ever had."

_He t'inks I'm his friend? Man, dis kid's gotta get out more._

"Yer da only person who ever treated me decent."

_I tied ya up, Kid._

"Ya talked ta me. An' ya… ya said nice t'ings about my ma. All Pa and Jo ever do is yell an' hit me an' Billy ran off ta da city an' left me wit' 'em. I… I ain't gonna let 'em sell ya. I can't! I gotta get ya outta here somehow."

"I wish ya could, Kid, but wit'out dat key, I ain't goin' nowhere fast."


	12. Chapter 12 Guilt

**A/N: Someone asked about the accents. Well, the Roberts do not sound as if they came from the deep South. NY has several different accents. For the Roberts, think Raph's Brooklyn with a slightly slower, less clipped are difficult to capture on paper... If anyone has suggestions, please feel free to PM me. :)**

**Finally, the guys are getting somewhere in their search. Things will get worse before they get better for pretty much everyone involved, but as always I promise a happy ending.**

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are loved, as always. :)  
**

* * *

_Chapter 12 -Guilt-  
~~~_

"Don, how much further?"

"About twenty minutes, Casey."

"I gotta pee."

"Nice, Casey. Can't you hold it?"

"No."

Donatello muttered under his breath. "You couldn't say something when we passed that rest area ten miles ago?"

"I didn't hafta go then."

Donatello sighed. "Well I can't just pull over on the side of the highway."

"You'll hafta."

Donatello rolled his eyes, but a glance at Casey's strained face in the mirror convinced him there was no alternative. He pulled to a gentle stop at the side of the road. The side door of the van slid open and Casey disappeared over the embankment. Donatello rested his forehead on the steering wheel. Leo snorted. Don glanced at his brother and snickered.

Glancing in the rear-view mirror, the smile dropped from his face. "Leo. We've got company." Leonardo looked into the side mirror and swore.

***

When Officer Jack Sylvan walked up to the decrepit van on the side of the road and peered through the windows, it was empty. He shook his head and touched the button on his radio. "Dispatch, this is 303. I've got an abandoned van on the side of Rte 17, at the Owego exit. Looks like someone broke down."

The radio crackled. "You want a tow-truck, Jack?"

"Nah, not yet, Ethel. I'll come back in a couple hours. If it's still here, I'll have it towed then."

"Do you have a license plate?"

"Yeah. Alpha, nine, six…"

_Thump._ Officer Sylvan collapsed in the gravel at the side of the road, unconscious.

Casey Jone's anxious face appeared in the window. "Hey, you guys in here?"

"Casey! You assaulted an officer!" Leonardo glared at the man, his eyes flashing. "What the _shell_ were you thinking?"

"I was _thinkin'_ he spotted you guys!" yelled Casey. "I was _thinkin'_ he was callin' in da army ta help him catch a couple mutant turtles. I was _thinkin' _I'd better stop him 'fore he called fer help. Whatda we do now?"

Leonardo sighed and bit off his retort. What was done couldn't be changed. "Is he ok?"

Donatello slipped out of the van and touched the man's neck. "His pulse is strong and he's breathing steadily. He'll have a headache, but he should be fine."

"Put him in his car," said Leonardo, coming to a quick decision. "We'll leave him here. Maybe he won't remember anything."

"Jack!" The radio crackled, making them all jump. "Jack, is everything ok?"

"_Shell_," Leonardo's voice was strained. "Now what?"

"Dispatch, this is Jack. Everything's fine. I'm going to get some lunch." Donatello spoke into the radio. Leonardo held his breath. Casey's blue eyes were wide.

"Ok, Jack."

They breathed a collective sigh of relief. "Casey, get him into the car," said Leonardo.

"You got it, Leo." Casey picked the man up carefully and carried him back to his car.

"Don, get back in here. We've been lucky so far, but a car could come along at any second!" Donatello had straightened, but he was standing with his back to the van staring down the embankment. He didn't seem to hear his brother. He took a step away from the van. "Don! This is no time for sightseeing! Get in the van!" Donatello moved like a turtle in a dream. He leaned over the embankment, bending to pick something up. The sound of a car engine could be heard clearly coming toward them. Leonardo was frantic. "Donatello! Get in here, _now!_"

Don snatched something up from the weeds. He picked up his head and looked down the road, seeming to realize the danger just as Casey sprinted back to the van, jumping into the driver's seat.

"Guys, we gotta get outta here," he said tersely. "Dat cop's startin' ta wake up!"

Don was inside the van in one neat leap and Leonardo slammed the door behind him. Casey peeled out and turned off the exit, squealing the tires as he raced down the ramp.

"Take it easy, Casey!" yelled Leo. "We don't need to draw any more attention to ourselves! And Don, what was that all about?" He turned a dark glare on his brother. "You could've been spotted!" Donatello didn't answer, just sat with his head down, shaking. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" Leo waved his arms.

Don wordlessly held out his open hand. Leo gasped, staring. In Donatello's palm lay a piece of familiar red silk, a tail torn from a mask. Leonardo's hand moved as if of its own accord. He touched the fabric with his fingertips.

"Casey. Stop the van," he said softly.

"What? Leo, we gotta get outta here 'fore dat cop wakes up…"

"_Stop the van_." Leonardo's eyes snapped up, meeting Casey's in the rear-view. "We've found him. We've found Raph."

***

Michelangelo rolled over with a sigh. _My arm hurts_, was his first thought. _How'd I get in bed? We were watchin' movies… Did April put me to bed? Aww, geez. How embarrassing. Glad Raph wasn't here for that… On second thought, I wish he _was_ here. Even if he teased the shell offa me for lettin' April tuck me in like a hatchling. _He stretched, wincing at the pull in his injured arm and sat up.

_What's that? Oh, my shell-cell. It's the guys! I wonder if they found Raph? _Michelangelo grabbed his cell phone, flipping it open eagerly. Leonardo appeared on the screen.

"Mikey?"

"Yeah, Leo?"

"Mike, listen, we're gonna need you and April to bring us some equipment."

"Sure, Leo, whatdaya need?"

Leonardo's expression was strained. "Why don't you call April, Mike and have her call Don, ok? We're going to need some scuba gear."

"What? Why? What for? Leo, what's goin' on?"

"Mike… Just have April call us, ok?"

"No, it's not ok, Leo! What's going on?" Michelangelo's voice rose, his anxiety spiking.

Leonardo sighed. "Mikey, I really don't want to talk about it over the phone, ok? Please, just have April call us." The screen went dark.

_He hung up on me!_ Michelangelo stared at the phone, stung. _I can't believe Leo hung up on me! Oh man, this is bad. What couldn't he tell me over the phone? What could be that bad? And what could they need with scuba gear? We can swim… why would he need to go diving? _

He pushed the buttons on the phone to ring April's apartment.

"_You know what to do when it beeps."_

"April? April, Dudette, are ya home? You should be home, right? Ok well obviously you're not home. Didja go out for coffee or something? 'Cause Leo called an'…" _Beeeep._

_Shell. I used up the tape again. I gotta learn to leave shorter messages._ Michelangelo dialed again and got the machine again. Three attempts later, he gave up. He wandered downstairs into the kitchen. Splinter was already sitting at the table with a cup of tea.

"Good morning, Michelangelo."

"Good mornin' Sensei." Mikey rubbed his hand over his forehead. He sat down in the chair and set his shell-cell on the table, staring at it morosely.

"Is something wrong, my son?"

"Yeah. Leo called. He wants April and me to bring 'em some scuba equipment, but he wouldn't say why. And I tried callin' April, but she ain't home."

"Did you walk Miss O'Neil home last night?"

Michelangelo avoided his father's eyes. He twisted his mask tails around his fingers. "No, Sensei," he confessed finally. "I… I guess I musta… fell asleep." He felt his face getting hot.

"Michelangelo. You know we should not allow Miss O'Neil to walk the streets alone at night," scolded Splinter. "You should not have allowed her to leave unaccompanied. Our enemies are familiar with her. She is vulnerable because of her association with us. We are responsible to protect her."

"Yes, Sensei," said the miserable turtle.

"You will go to Miss O'Neil's apartment," said Splinter.

"Now? In the daytime?" Blue eyes regarded Splinter, incredulous.

"Now. You will have to travel carefully, Michelangelo. I feel something is not right with Miss O'Neil. And you will require her assistance, will you not, to take the equipment to your brothers?"

"Yes, Sensei. Ok, I'll go. Right after breakfast…" Splinter's black eyes snapped and Michelangelo trailed off. "Or now. Yeah, I think a nice morning stroll through the city would be better than breakfast anyway…" He scrambled up, giving Splinter a quick bow before leaving the kitchen.

_April always goes this way_, thought Michelangelo. He pulled his coat tighter around himself and kept his head down to hide his green face. The sidewalk was almost deserted. He'd seen only one jogger since leaving the Lair. The city felt heavy, humid, waiting, as if a storm would soon break out.

_I wonder what the guys want with scuba gear. What's Upstate, anyway? The ocean's down by Long Island, not Upstate. _ _Maybe they want to check out a pond or somethin'? But why? Shell, I wish April would answer her phone. No answer at the apartment. Oh! Wait a minute. I didn't try her cell! _Whipping out his phone, Michelangelo dialed the necessary numbers. He jumped when he heard a familiar ring.

"April?" Michelangelo spun around, staring down the alley. The ringing was definitely coming from down there. He moved cautiously into the alley. "April? Dudette, you down here?"

He tracked the sound until he spotted a flash of silver in the shadow near the building. _April's phone!_ Michelangelo picked it up, feeling a chill race through him. _Oh, shell… what do I do now? Ok, Mikey, relax. April dropped her phone, that's all. She didn't get abducted by aliens or taken by a blood-sucking vampire or brain-munching zombie…_ He looked nervously around the alley. His blue eyes narrowed, fastening on a piece of brick lying in the alley. He picked it up, looking closer and dropped it with a sickened gasp. _Blood and hair… red hair. Oh no. Oh shell no. April… Oh no._


	13. Chapter 13 Thomas

**A/N: Enter Thomas. Raph might be able to handle Jo, Billy and Juan, but this guy's trouble.  
And yes, I know, Bishop hasn't shown up yet. He'll be along, never fear.**

**

* * *

**_Chapter 13 -Thomas-  
~~~_

"Hold still." Cameron's voice held a note of determination.

Raph's eyes narrowed as he peered over his shoulder toward the boy. He could just make out his face in the thin moonlight. "Why?"

"I'm gonna bust dat chain."

"How ya gonna do dat?"

"Like _dis_."

Raph felt a jolt through the ground and he hissed as the chain jerked, rubbing against his raw neck. "What're ya doin, kid?"

"I got da hatchet." _Thud. _"I'm cuttin' ya loose." _Thud. _It took three more blows to split the links. Raphael stood up, moving away from the post with relief.

"Can ya cut da ropes, Kid? Wit'out cuttin' my hands off?" he added hastily. Cameron giggled, startling Raph. He'd never heard the kid laugh. _Shell. Didn't know he knew how._

"Yeah, here, hold still. Da hatchet's sharp." Raph flinched as he felt the cold blade brush against his hand, but the boy was careful. Soon he'd sliced through the ropes. Raph slowly pulled his hands in front of him, moving his arms to restore the circulation and rubbing his raw wrists. He explored the chain still around his neck with his fingers. A length of about four feet still hung from the end.

"Thanks, Kid."

"No problem."

"You'd better get lost, Kid. Your sister won't be happy if she finds out ya helped me."

"I'm goin' wit' you!"

"What? No! You can't go wit' me, Kid."

Cameron stood with his hands on his hips, scowling. "I'm goin' wit' _you_, Raphael. I ain't stayin' here, an' I can't go home."

"Cameron, look. Ya _can't_ go wit' me. Ya just can't. I gotta go back ta da city."

"_I_ wanna go ta da city!"

"Kid. Ya helped me. T'ank you fer dat. But ya can't go wit' me. Ya just can't!"

"Either ya take me wit' ya, or I'll go wake Jo and Billy."

"You wouldn't!"

"I would." The boy glared at Raphael. "I helped you. Now ya can help me. Besides, you won't be able to get food or take care of yerself out here."

"I can take care of myself," growled Raphael.

Cameron snorted. "Yeah, right. Ya know how ta catch a rabbit an' skin it? Can ya kill a deer wit' those fancy forks ya carry around? Ya need me, Raphael."

"Mebbe I'll just leave ya here an' take my chances."

"Ya can't. I'll wake the others."

In an instant, Raphael's hand was pressed to Cameron's neck. "Don't push me, Kid."

Cameron looked into Raphael's amber gaze, unmoved. "Ya won't hurt me. Ya said so. Ya gave yer word."

"I'm close ta changin' my mind, Kid!"

Cameron simply watched Raphael. With a gusty sigh, Raph released the boy. "All _right_. But ya gotta keep up."

"Don't worry. Let's go." Cameron headed off into the trees. After a moment's hesitation, Raphael followed.

***

Thomas Roberts considered himself a patient man and a decent enough father. He raised his kids right, he taught them to mind and disciplined them when they acted up. Keep 'em in line; that was his motto. Put a boy on a straight road when he's young and he won't stray far. Yes, Thomas was sure he had done right by his kids. Even though Billy'd run off to the big city looking for adventure, he still came home now and then and that Juan kid he'd befriended was all right. A little twitchy, maybe, but all right.

Thomas was especially proud of his daughter, Johanna. She was a strong girl, that one. The night the kids' mamma passed, Johanna had handled it like a man. Thomas tried not to remember standing over his wife's still form, the cold knot clenching in his gut when he realized she wasn't getting up again. The whiskey helped, when the memories tried to crowd in. He didn't remember much else after that. Billy's white face, just before the boy dashed out the door and Johanna's shock, her mouth stretched into an "o" as she stared down at her mamma's body from the stairway. Then she'd gotten this look, the look Thomas saw often on her face after that, a cold, hard determination.

_You go, Pa. I'll take care a dis_, she'd said. He'd turned and stumbled out the door. His cronies at the bar would testify later that he'd been there the whole time. Good friends were hard to find, reflected Thomas later. Friends who would tell the judge, with his suspicious glare and smug, doughy face, that you were drinking with them the entire evening, when they knew full well he hadn't shown up 'til nearly midnight.

He'd half-expected the driveway to be swarming with cops when he made his way back home. Despite the shots of liquid courage he'd had at the bar, he was dangerously close to sober as he came up the drive. A car was in the driveway, but not a cop car, he could tell. They all drove those Ford Crown Victorias, even the plain cars they used to trick speeders on the highway. This car was different.

He walked in and met the sad eyes of the local social worker. _I'm so sorry, Mr. Roberts. It seems your wife has had an accident._ Johanna sat there on the couch, her eyes wide and blue, full of innocence. A few tears tracked down her cheeks, but they were generated purposely, he could tell. He'd seen enough false tears from the girl when she didn't get her own way to know she could produce them on demand.

Yes, Johanna had grown into a fine young woman and done him proud. Now if Billy would just get the adventuring out of his system and settle down and Cameron would man up a bit, his family would be right on track. Sarah would've been proud of them. It really was too bad. He hadn't meant to hit her that hard…

Thomas shook his head, banishing the memory of his wife's pale face, her dark eyes pleading, the shock as she fell backward, the crack of her head hitting the floor… He got up and went to the liquor cabinet to pour himself another drink. He peered out the window as he poured and noticed the shed door open.

Thomas swore and set the bottle down. _So that's where Cameron's hiding out. He's in the shed. Little snot. I'll learn him to run off…_ He threw back the amber liquid and slipped his belt off, heading for the door to teach his youngest son a lesson. When Thomas reached the shed, he swore again. There was no sign of Cameron and his boat was also missing. _Can't trust nobody these days,_ he thought bitterly. _Takin' a man's boat right offa his own property. When I get hold of the punks who did this… Prolly those Johnson boys. I never did like those kids. Smarmy little…_

He strode over to the door, checking the chain and padlock for damage. _Wait a minute, dis is unlocked, not broken._ Wheels began to turn in Thomas' mind. _Only ones who have keys are Johanna… and Billy. Those kids are up ta somethin'. Mebbe they took that Juan kid out huntin' turtles on da river. But why wouldn't they tell me where they was goin'? Mebbe they changed their minds 'bout goin' back ta da city… If it was Billy I'd say he was hidin' somethin' from me, but Johanna…Well, kids will be kids. Still, they shoulda tol' me where they was goin'. I'd better go after them, make sure they know ta put da boat back in properly. Mebbe Jo'll make up a batch o' turtle soup. Haven't had that in ages._

Thomas headed for his beat up old pick-up. _I'll head over ta da boat launch. If they ain't there, they'll be at the cabin. Dis'll be nice. We ain't gone huntin' as a family in a long time. Not since Sarah… Yeah. This'll be a chance to spend some time wit' my boy. Mebbe he's ready to come home, settle down. Jo and I'll show him an' his friend a good time. Jo seems ta like that Juan kid. Time he saw how the Roberts family spends time together._

***

"Billy, ya darn fool! Hol' still, or I'll break yer other arm fer ya!"

"Ya ain't touchin' it, Jo! I'm goin' ta da hospital!"

"An' jus' how ya gonna pay da bill, Billy? Ya got da cash fer da turtle in yer pocket already? Just hold still an' let me set that arm." She grabbed her brother's shoulders and forced him down into the chair. "Don't make me tie ya up!"

Billy's glare met her flashing blue eyes defiantly. "Ya wouldn't dare!"

"Oh, wouldn't I? Juan, come 'ere. Hold 'im."

"I…"

"Just do it!" Juan hesitantly put his hands on Billy's shoulders. Billy squirmed.

"Hold him, ya idiot. How'm I gonna set this arm if ya let him get up?" Swallowing hard, Juan gathered his courage and tightened his hold. Billy shot him a sick look, but didn't struggle.

"Ok, here we…" Johanna straightened her brother's arm in a quick jerk. "go."

Billy roared and went white. Sweat dripped down his face. He twisted away from Juan, turning in the chair and vomited on the floor. Juan jumped back, feeling sick himself.

"It's over, ya big wuss," said Johanna calmly. "Let's get it wrapped up so ya don't mess it up again."

Billy sat quietly, shaking, while his sister bound his arm tightly between two straight sticks, wrapping long strips of an old sheet to form a cast. When she'd finished, Billy stood up and staggered toward the bed.

"Billy!" Johanna's bark stopped him. He looked at her, his eyes dull. "Clean up yer mess." She pointed toward the puddle he'd left on the floor. He nodded and made his way slowly toward the rag box. Juan stared, but didn't move to help.

He turned away from the pathetic scene and walked outside. The sun was just beginning to brighten the woods. _I wonder if the turtle's awake_, he thought. He walked across the clearing, away from the cabin. _I don't wanna know. The thing's prolly really mad now, if it survived the night. Johanna's crazy. We can't take that thing back and sell it. It'll kill us. An' if we let it go, it'll kill us. We're gonna die out here. Mebbe I can talk to it. It liked Cameron 'cause he took care of it. Mebbe if I'm nice to it, when it gets loose it won't kill me. _

Juan turned back toward the cabin before he could change his mind. He forced himself to round the corner toward the lean-to, swallowing hard.

"H…hello?" he called softly. "Turtle dude, you… you awake, _amigo_?"

There was no sound. _Mebbe it's dead. Or still sleepin'. Or mebbe it's waitin' fer me ta get close enough…_ Juan swallowed again. He walked a little further around the corner, careful to keep a safe distance away from the lean-to, out of the turtle's range.

"Hey. I… I just wanted ta see, ya know, if ya needed anyt'ing. Water, or food or somethin'. Jo shouldn't of left ya out here all night like dis…" Juan stopped, frozen, when he spotted the chain, it's freshly cut ends shining on the dirt. He swore and looked around wildly. _It's loose! It's loose an' I'm out here alone…_ In an instant, he was running for his life, crossing the distance to the front door in record time, though to Juan it seemed to take an eternity.

"It's gone! It's gone! Da t'ing's gone, an' we gotta get outta here 'fore it kills us!" he screamed, bursting through the door. Two pairs of blue eyes stared at him in shock.

"Whatdaya mean? What's gone?" Johanna stood with her hands on her hips, daring him to repeat the disastrous news.

"Da turtle. It's gone. It busted da chain. We gotta _go_, 'fore it comes _back_."

"It ain't gonna come _back_, ya idiot. It's prolly hidin' out in da woods. We gotta track it." Johanna was striding across the floor, reaching for the rifle.

"Are you _loco_?" Juan stared at her. "Dat t'ing will _kill _us. It's awake, it busted da chain and it's _mad_. Didn't ya see its eyes last night? It's… it's like a _demon_ or somet'in! I ain't goin off in da woods after dat t'ing! I'm goin' back to da city, _now._"

Johanna gave him four seconds from her cold blue eyes, then shrugged, turning away. "Suit yerself. It's a long walk back ta da boat, an den ya gotta row back ta da launch ta get ta da truck. I hope it doesn't get ya."

"I… I… can't… Billy, what're we gonna do?" Juan plopped down on the chair.

"I'm goin' after it," said Jo. "Ya comin', Billy?"

"No," moaned Billy. "I had enough o' turtle huntin', Jo. Juan's right. Da t'ing'll just attack us again. Leave it go."

"You always were a quitter," sneered Johanna. "Fine. _I'll_ go after it. An' _I'll_ keep da money. I just hope it didn't find Cameron out there." She shot the last comment over her shoulder as she headed for the door.

"Wait! Wait, Jo. I'm comin'," Billy swung his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up. He looked pale, shaky and sick. "We can't leave Cameron out there alone wit' dat t'ing."

Juan gasped. "Billy…"

Billy's blue eyes bored into Juan's dark ones. "Ya can stay here if ya want, Juan, but I'm goin'. He's my _brother_."

"I ain't stayin' here alone!"

"Well, let's go, boys." Johanna smirked. "We're burnin' daylight. Who knows where dat t'ing is. Or what it's doin' ta Cameron."

"Shut _up_, Jo," snarled Billy. He stood up, swaying and snatched his shotgun. He swore, looking down. "The stock's cracked."

"It's fine. Ya shouldn't need ta shoot it, anyway. I got da rifle. We just gotta show 'im da guns, he'll give up quick enough," said Jo. She strode toward the door. It swung open and she jumped back with a startled shout, the gun pointing toward the intruder.

"Watch where yer pointin' dat t'ing, Johanna!" Thomas Roberts' shout filled the cabin like a thunder-clap.

Johanna lowered the gun hastily. "Pa! What're ya doin' here?"

"I come ta see why ya thieved my boat," said Thomas. His smirk relaxed a little of the tension his remark caused. "An' I heard ya'll're goin' turtle huntin', so I figured I'd come along. We ain't gone huntin' toget'er in ages." Billy, Johanna and Juan stared at Thomas, their eyes wide with shock. "What? Ya don't want yer old man along?" Thomas scowled.

"No, Pa, it ain't dat," said Johanna. "It's just…"

"Cameron's missin', Pa, an' there's a big ol' turtle-critter in da woods. We gotta find him, 'fore it does. It… it ain't jus' a turtle, Pa. It walks an' talks," blurted Billy.

Thomas Roberts stared at his eldest son as if the boy had lost his mind.

"It's true, Pa," said Johanna. Even Juan was nodding. "It attacked us. It busted Billy's arm, see? We had it tied up las' night, but it busted loose, an' Cameron's gone, too."

Thomas' eyes narrowed. "Cameron was here?"

"Yeah, Pa, he came up here ta go huntin' wit' us, but dis mornin' he was gone," said Billy. "Mebbe he went out ta set da snare for a rabbit. We gotta find 'im, 'fore da turtle critter does."

"Get yer gun, Billy, Jo," said Thomas grimly. "We'll find dis critter, an' get yer brother back, don't you worry. We're goin' huntin'. Ain't no critter gonna get away from da Roberts."


	14. Chapter 14 The Shot

**A/N: Aww, Raph, you really should've listened to the boy.  
Reviewers, before you form that lynching party, remember I've promised a happy ending.  
*Runs to hide until the heat's off***

**

* * *

**_Chapter 14 -The Shot-  
~~~_

"Kid. Hey, Kid. I said ya gotta keep up if yer comin' wit' me. An' ya make too much noise. Half da forest'll hear ya comin'." Raph glared over his shoulder at the boy trailing him.

"Yer makin' more noise wit' yer jawin' then I am," grumbled Cameron.

Raphael swore as the chain wrapped itself around a bush. "Too bad ya didn't bring da hatchet, I could o' shortened dis chain," he remarked.

"Sure." Cameron snorted. "An' mebbe while I was at it, we coulda got da keys to the truck, an' yer fancy knives, too."

"Not a bad idea, Kid."

_Wait a minute. It's _really_ not a bad idea. If we could get to dat truck, I could hot-wire it and be back in the city before dark. I've gotta lose da kid, though. Leo'd be really ticked if I brought him back ta da Lair. _

Raph glanced at the boy again. "Kid, where's da boat? If we can get across da river, mebbe we can lose them."

"Yer crazy. My ol' man's on da other side of dat river. An' da highway runs right along it. Somebody'd spot ya."

"I gotta chance it, Kid. I can't stay around here an' wait fer yer crazy sister ta hunt me down."

Cameron sighed. "All right. I'll take ya ta da boat, but Raphael?"

"Yeah, Kid?"

"Ya gotta promise ta take me wit' ya."

"What?" Raph's eyes narrowed.

"I wanna go to da city wit' ya. I'll get ya to da truck. I can hot-wire it. Billy showed me how. Ya can drive, can't ya?"

"I can't take ya back wit' me, Kid."

The kid's blue eyes stared up at Raph, reminding him again of Mikey. "I ain't got nowhere else ta go!"

"Dat ain't my problem, Kid!" They glared at one another for a full minute.

"I ain't takin' ya to da boat unless you give me yer _word_ ta take me ta da city wit' ya."

"I ain't takin' ya to da city!"

"Then ya can find da boat on yer own." Cameron turned and started walking off.

"Cameron! Kid, wait!" Raphael shook his head in frustration. _He shouldn't be out here on his own. But who'm I kidding? He can prolly take better care of himself than I can. The kid's got guts, an' he knows how ta take care of himself out here, better'n I do, dat's fer sure. That father of his… I can't just leave him with that family. But I ain't no social worker! What'm I supposed ta do wit' him?_

He started after the boy, but the chain caught on a branch. Raph swore and yanked the chain loose, swearing again as it dug into his raw neck. He let loose a sigh. "Cameron, wait!" he called. Cameron turned, just within sight and looked at him, frowning.

"Whatdaya want?"

"All right, Kid," said Raph. "I… I give ya my word. Ya can come back ta da city wit' me. Now, let's go."

Cameron's smile lit up the woods. "All right! It'll be great, Raphael, you'll see. I can get a job, an' an apartment. Ya can live wit' me if ya want…"

"Kid. I got a home. I got a _family_. I don't need no apartment."

"Oh." Cameron turned away, stalking off through the woods.

_Now I done it. I went an hurt his feelin's. Well, better he should learn now. I ain't no babysitter an' I ain't a pet._

"Cameron…"

"It's ok, Raphael. Just take me ta da city, an' I'll disappear. I can take care o' myself. Ya won't hafta worry 'bout me no more. I won't bother ya again after we get there. I… I give ya my word."

They walked in silence for about a mile, skirting the cabin and making a bend toward the river. Finally Cameron stopped, pointing.

"There's da boat," he whispered.

"Let's go," answered Raph.

"Wait!" Cameron caught Raphael's arm. Raph scowled, glaring.

"What? Let's go, Kid, 'fore somebody comes."

"Somethin' ain't right. Somethin' don't _feel_ right," whispered Cameron. "Raphael, wait, where're ya goin?"

"I'm gonna get dat boat, Cameron. Ya comin' wit' me or not?"

"No, Raphael! Wait!" Cameron called keeping his voice quiet though his tone was urgent. "Don't go out there, Raphael!"

Raph ignored him, striding toward the boat. _I've got to get outta these woods. I've gotta find dat truck an' get da shell home…_

He approached the rowboat slowly, cautiously, but there was no sign of the teenagers who'd been hunting him. Raph smirked. The idiot kids had left the oars right in the boat. This would be too easy. As he stepped out into the grass on the riverbank, a cold voice stopped him, frozen in his tracks.

"Don't move, turtle."

Raph turned slowly on the spot, scanning the bushes for the owner of the voice. A man stood up, a cold smile playing across his rugged features. His heavy shot-gun was pointed at Raph's stomach. "See, boys, I tol' ya, traps work iffin ya can just use da right bait."

Billy stepped from behind a tree, smirking, his gun leveled at Raph, too. Raph spotted Juan a few paces behind Billy and Johanna stepped out from behind yet another clump of undergrowth.

"Where's my brother, Turtle?" growled Billy.

"How should I know?" snapped Raph, glaring. "What do you care, anyway?"

"If you've harmed my boy, critter, your shell'll be hangin' on my wall," growled the man.

"I ain't seen yer kid," answered Raphael. _Well, I wanted five minutes with Cameron's father. Except I didn't want it to be with him holding a gun on me. Shell, the kid was right. I guess I shoulda listened ta him._

"How're we gonna do this, Pa?" asked Jo, her eyes gleaming. "We won't all fit in da boat at once."

"You an' me'll take da turtle back," said Thomas. His dark eyes never left Raphael. "Ya can hold da gun. I'll row. Den ya can come back an' get yer brother an' Juan."

"Pa, ya can't leave us out here," protested Billy. "What about Cameron? What if he's out in da woods, hurt or somethin'?"

"Cameron can take care o' himself," growled Thomas. "He shouldn't o' run off like he did."

"I ain't leavin' wit'out Cameron," said Billy stubbornly. "Dis turtle did somethin' ta him, I know it did. Where's my brother, Turtle?"

"I tol' ya already, I ain't seen 'im," said Raphael, glaring. _Da least I can do is give da kid a chance to get away._

"Come on. I ain't got all day ta stand around jawin'," said Thomas. He strode forward and poked Raph in the plastron with his gun. "Move, Turtle."

"Da name's Raphael."

"Heh. Dat's a fancy name."

"I'd rather have a fancy name than bein' some big drunk who beats up on little kids," Raph returned.

The man's fist shot out so fast, Raph was caught off guard and he rolled back on his shell. In an instant he was on his feet, crouching in a fighting stance. He leapt forward, swinging a kick at the man's head… and fell backward again as the chain caught on a root, yanking him to the ground. He landed square on his shell and swore.

Raucous laughter echoed through the forest. Thomas, Johanna and Billy were all laughing. Juan smirked. Raphael scrambled up, furious. _I'll teach ya ta laugh at me!_ He lunged forward with a roar, but the guns were trained on him again in an instant.

"Don't do it, Turtle," growled Thomas. Raph froze, staring at the gun.

"Billy, take hold o' dat chain an' lead da t'ing ta da boat. Ya can look fer Cameron while Jo an' I take it back ta da boat launch. I'll put it in da back of Juan's truck an' wait fer ya there."

"What're we gonna do wit' it, Pa?"

"I reckon Jo's right; we can sell it," said Thomas. "It's prolly worth a mint. We'll sell it an' pay off da mortgage on da house. Mebbe buy a new pick-up." Raph watched Johanna's eyes go icy cold. She was not happy with her father's plans for the money she figured was hers by right. Raph smirked. _Sorry, sister. Guess you're out of luck. Daddy's gonna spend all yer money an' ya won't see a dime._

"What about Mamma's pills?" Juan spoke up. "Billy an' I were gonna split da money. I need it fer my Mamma's pills, Mr. Roberts."

Thomas' cold blue eyes rested on the boy for a moment. "Yeah, kid, we'll get yer Ma's medicine, don't worry. Da t'ing's worth plenty." Raphael saw the lie in the man's eyes. He had no intention of sharing the money.

"He ain't gonna give ya not'in', Kid," he sneered, driving the wedge deeper. "He's gonna take me an' his favorite kid. He'll sell me an' leave you two out here ta rot in da woods."

"Shut yer trap, critter," yelled Thomas, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Why? Ya gonna hit me, too?" snapped Raphael. "Yer good at beatin' up on yer son who can't defend himself. How about ya put dat gun down an' try hittin' me again?"

"I knew it! It saw Cameron! Make it tell us where he is, Pa! What'd ya do wit' my brother, Critter? Where's Cameron?" Billy stared, wild-eyed at Raph.

"Like I'd tell ya if I knew, wit' da bruises dat kid has," snapped Raphael. "What, da ya use 'im as a personal punchin' bag?"

"I never hit my brother," yelled Billy.

"Shut up, boy," snapped Thomas. "Critter, what'd ya do wit' my boy?"

"He ain't yer 'boy'," growled Raphael, glaring. "He has a name. It's 'Cameron'. An' he deserves better'n what you've given him. Shell, _I_ know more about bein' a dad than you ever will. Yer not'in' but a bully."

The gun swung up, showing Raph death once more. _Aw shell, I've really got to learn to keep my big yap shut._

"Turtle, you got to the count o' three ta tell me where my boy is. One…"

_Cameron, sorry fer dis, Kid. A turtle's gotta do what a turtle's gotta do._

"Two…"

Before the man could say 'three', Raphael was flying through the air toward him with a bellow. The barrel snapped up and the roar of a gunshot mingled with Raph's furious war-cry, echoing through the trees.


	15. Chapter 15 Hun

**A/N: Hope you're wearing a parachute... 'cause here comes another cliff.  
All I will say in my own defense is, yeah, all together now: "happy endings". ;)  


* * *

**_Chapter 15 -Hun-  
~~~_

April O'Neil had been in some pretty rough spots. She'd known the turtles for several years and had come to accept gang fights, property damage and even kidnapping, as a fair trade for the honor of knowing the Hamato family and having them as an intimate part of her life. That didn't mean she enjoyed waking up with a pounding headache on cold concrete, with her hands bound behind her and her ankles tied. In fact she was thoroughly sick of it already.

She shifted, trying to ease the various aches in her legs and arms. Whomever'd tossed her in here hadn't been gentle and she could feel the bruise forming on her thigh. It would match nicely with several on her arms, the one on her hip and a rather nasty bump she was sure was forming to mark the tender spot on the back of her head.

_I can't believe he hit me like that, the jerk. They must've wanted me alive, or they would've finished the job before I woke up. Still, it doesn't seem like they much care one way or the other, the way he conked me with… whatever was hard enough to leave me with that lump._ She shifted, uncomfortable, and tried not to think bitter thoughts about her rather dubious future.

_I guess Leo's right about my walking home alone in the dark. Why'd they bring me here, though? _She peered around the darkened room, but the dim lighting obscured details.

_Concrete floor… and I see studs on the walls… looks like the inside of a storage room. Maybe a warehouse? But why bother bringing me here? What do they want? For that matter, who are _they_, anyway? Random kidnappers? Or the guys' enemies? Doesn't seem likely, but it could be someone who's mad at them, and using me to get to them. Or using me as bait! _April shivered, trying not to think about the reasons she might have been kept alive. _Oh, man… Guys, stay away. My life isn't worth giving up yours for!_

_Geez this is boring. I wonder if anyone's around? Yelling for help might be a good idea… Or not. The people most likely to hear me are the ones who brought me here. I'm not sure I want them to know I'm awake. _Wriggling around, she tried the bonds once more, but they only cut deeper into her wrists and ankles.

_Why don't they ever use nice, soft cloth? Or even handcuffs… anything would be more comfortable than this rough rope! And why does it have to be so darn tight? Did they think I was going to ninja-kick my way out of here? I guess I should take the self-defense training with Leo more seriously. Not that it would do me any good. Unless he knows some trick for getting out of ropes._

She sighed and lay down on the cool concrete. _Mikey, I just hope you wait for Leo and Don to get back with Raphael before you try busting me out of here. I'd hate to see you get hurt, too._

Sounds from outside snapped her out of her thoughts. Footsteps and voices seemed to echo, reinforcing her sense of being in a warehouse. _Oh, man… someone's coming. Ok, O'Neil, don't panic. Just lay here like you're still out. Maybe they'll leave you alone._

April lay back, closing her eyes and waited. She heard movement in the hall, heard a door opening. It was all she could do not to flinch as light spilled across her face. She was glad she'd kept her eyes closed; the light was too bright. Even through her lids it sent spikes of pain through her already-aching head. She lay still with an effort, not allowing herself to so much as twitch, as heavy footsteps made their way across the floor toward her.

The steps sounded wrong, somehow, too heavy, as if an elephant had entered the room and was casually strolling toward her. Instinct and self-preservation battled as April heard clothing rustle. _He's coming closer… No sense in pretending. Whatever he's gonna do, my being out cold isn't going to stop him. I might as well face this with my eyes open._

Slowly, painfully, April opened her eyes. The first thing she took in was the enormous size of the sneakers a few feet away from her face. Her eyes traveled slowly upward, past torn and dirty pants to a huge shirt, to shoulders the size of a bumper on a Mack truck, to a smirk and blond pony-tail.

_Oh great. Hun. I couldn't be kidnapped by some nice, normal nut-job. Oh, no, it has to be Hun._

"You're awake. Good. I was afraid Sullivan's brick might have done lasting damage."

April glared. "Nothing to the damage the guys will do when they catch up to you, Hun."

He laughed, a cold, cruel sound. "I doubt the _freaks_ will come looking for you. They're too busy looking for the remains of the one they call Raphael."

April felt as though someone had punched her in the gut. She closed her eyes, in pain. "Raph…"

Hun chuckled, hearing her whisper. "Yes, he's dead. One of my own members killed him, left him lying in an alley. What a perfect ending for a freak like him."

April opened her eyes and glared at Hun. "You… you…" She couldn't come up with a word to express her rage. She spat, just missing his shoe. In an instant, she was lifted into the air by the front of her shirt, her feet dangling a foot off the ground.

"Careful, O'Neil," growled Hun. "You're only useful to us for a few days, as a hostage. After that…" he smiled, and didn't bother to finish the sentence. Hun lowered April, now trembling, to the ground.

April blinked hard, keeping back the tears. She wasn't going to let him see her cry. Raphael wasn't the only one who could use anger as a shield. She steeled herself, stoking her rage into a fury. She struggled against her bonds, using the physical pain to distract herself from the idea that Raph could be… _No! He's not. The guys have gone Upstate to get him. They're going to bring him home. He's going to be fine_.

Hun smirked, watching her. "You've got spirit. That's good. That's real good. Maybe if you play your cards right, I'll cut you loose. Let you join the PD's even."

April locked onto his voice, soaking up the words, letting them fuel her rage. "Join _you?_ Why would I lower myself like that? I've trained with the best, Hun. Leonardo has been teaching me himself. Why would I join a low-life bunch of street-punks like _you?"_

Hun smirked. "That depends. How long do you want to live?"

***

Michelangelo had taken to the rooftops. He searched the city, but there was no sign of his red-headed friend. His mind was focused, sharpened with worry.

_Where are ya, April? That couldn't have been your blood on that brick… I was hopin' ya were just hanging out around town somewhere, but I can't find you. I guess you really were taken. Aw, shell, what'm I gonna do?_ He crouched beside a fan, resting his elbows on his knees and his forehead in his palms. _Think, Mikey, think. Who would take April? And why?_

His shell-cell ringing startled Michelangelo so badly he nearly took off at full speed across the rooftop. He stopped after two steps though, recognizing the annoying buzz. He snapped the offending instrument open. "April?"

"Michelangelo!" Leonardo's angry face appeared on the screen. "Where's April? She's not answering her phone."

"I… I don't know," muttered Mikey. _And I'm glad you're Upstate right now, Leo, 'cause you're gonna de-shell me when you hear it was my fault she's been taken. I should never have let her walk home alone like that…_

"What? I can't hear you."

"I… I said I… I um…" _Shell, I can't tell Leo April's missing. He's already strung so tight looking for Raph. _

"Michelangelo. Have April call us."

"I will, Leo. As soon as I… see her, I promise."

"Ok." The connection broke with an annoyed _snap_ as Leonardo closed his phone. Mikey sighed and slid his closed, tucking it into the pouch sewn into his belt.

_What'm I supposed to say, Leo, April can't come help you guys 'cause she's been whacked in the head with a brick and I'm not sure whether she's alive or…_ He shook his head. _April's fine. She's got to be. I'm gonna find her, and I'm gonna get her back._

He took off across the rooftops again, determined to search the city one more time. Since the business district had proven fruitless, he went back to the alley. _There have got to be some clues here somewhere,_ he thought, casting across the ground.

_Something to show where April could've gone… a matchbook with the name of a seedy club on it? A parking stub? A ransom note? Come on, guys, work with me here. there's got to be something…_

A cough behind him made Michelangelo whirl, suddenly aware of how bright the early morning sun had become, and how thin the shadows that normally hid him. His eyes narrowed behind his orange mask as he scanned the alley, but there was no one… no one there.

_Shell… this is weird,_ thought Mikey, feeling a sudden chill. _The only other ones who can hide like we can are the Foot, and I've never heard one of them cough._ _There it was again! What's goin' on here? _Michelangelo turned slowly on his heel, searching the alley. Nothing. When he turned to face the street again, his blue eyes widened in shock. No fewer than ten people were crowding into the narrow space. All of them were either glaring or smirking or both, and all of them held some kind of weapon, pipes, chains, a couple baseball bats…

_Aw, shell…_ thought Mikey, pulling out his nunchucks.

"Ya lookin' fer yer girlfriend, turtle?" A man with greasy blond hair and grey eyes sneered. "Hun wants us ta give ya turtles a message- leave us alone, or the girl ain't comin' home lookin' as pretty as when she left."

"Well five minutes in your company's enough to uglify anyone," retorted Mikey, spinning his nunchucks. "Why'd ya take April, anyway? We don't go lookin' fer trouble with you. You tell Hun to let her go, or me an' my bros'll have to drop a bomb on him."

The man smiled, showing teeth. "We know you're alone, Turtle," he said. "One dead, two gone searchin' fer da body, and one little turtle got left behind."

With a roar, Michelangelo attacked. _Punch_. "My…_kick_… brother…_crack_…is…_snap…_not…_whack…_dead!" Even in a rage, Michelangelo was no real match for ten Purple Dragons. If they'd attacked in pairs, or even three or four at a time, he could've taken them alone. When they all piled on at once, though, the numbers were overwhelming. He took out and damaged four of them before the rest piled onto his shell, pinning him to the ground. He bucked and writhed, desperate to throw them off. The last thing he heard was the whistle of a pipe descending toward his skull.


	16. Chapter 16 Fools Rush In

**A/N: Ok, ok, back to Raph. Geesh. Give you guys a couple _little_ cliffs, and everyone wigs out.  
heh**

Remember, reviews are loved, as always, and I will respond to signed reviews. :)  


* * *

_Chapter 16 -Fools Rush In-  
~~~_

"What was _dat_?" Casey Jones stared, wide-eyed, toward the river.

"Sounded like a… gunshot." Leonardo followed Casey's gaze. "Is there a hunting season open now, Casey?"

"Not dat I know of, Leo. I've never been much one fer huntin' though."

"It's the wrong time of year." Donatello was pale, staring at the trees as though he were expecting an invading force to pour out of them at any moment. "All the animals have young right now."

"So that was just a random gunshot?" Leonardo stared at the trees as if he could peer through them and catch a glimpse of his brother. _Please let it be just some idiot shooting at cans…_

"It would seem so."

Leo came to a decision. "We're reasonably certain Raph is in the area, Don. We've got to check it out."

"Oh, dat sounds like a _real_ good plan, Leo. Let's go runnin' _toward_ da people shootin' da _guns_," grumbled Casey.

"Yeah, and whacking the cop on the head was a real brainstorm? Casey, if Raph _is_ here, what do you think people will do if they actually see him? Invite him in for a beer?" Leonardo scowled.

"We know Raph's in the area. The piece of his mask Don found proves it. People are _shooting_, and I'm sure I heard a yell. It's a pretty safe bet that there's some kind of trouble happening over there. Whenever there's trouble, Raph's usually in the middle of it. So I say we check it out."

"Yer right, Leo. Besides, mebbe we can bust a couple heads while we're here." Casey grinned. "Let's go, Donny."

Donatello sighed. "Oh, this is _such_ a bad idea…" he muttered, but drove the truck across the bridge toward the source of the sounds. "Running _toward the guns_, it never ends well…"

"What's that?" Leonardo pointed.

"Looks like a boat launch," said Donatello. "What's that big truck parked down there? 'MENDEZ DELIVERY'."

"Don, pull in, pull in!" Casey leaned over the front seat, reaching for the steering wheel. His blue eyes were wide and his face pale. "Pull in there, _right now_."

Donatello made the turn, barely keeping all four tires touching the ground. "What the _shell_, Casey! What're you doing?"

"Lookit da phone number, Donny! Dat truck's from da city! Those are da guys who snatched Raph, they've gotta be! He's here!"

"He's right, Don." Leonardo was glaring at the truck as if it had played some personal part in his brother's disappearance. Donatello pulled into the parking lot for the boat launch. He swerved into a space and rammed the truck into park.

"Let's go!"

"Don, wait! Someone might see ya!" Casey grabbed Donatello's shoulder. "I'll go first, an' see if it's safe."

"Casey…"

"Don, wait. He's right. We have to stay in the truck until Casey makes sure noone's around," said Leonardo.

"Leo…"

"No, Don. We won't do Raph any good if we get spotted. We're already in enough trouble. We're wanted for assaulting an officer."

Donatello's face went slightly gray. "He doesn't know what hit him…"

"Don, you know he probably ran the plates on the van before he got out of his car."

Donatello laid his forehead on the steering wheel. "How're we going to get home? When he wakes up, he'll have every cop in the state looking for this van. It's a long walk back to the city, Leo."

"First we've got to find Raph, Don. Don't worry. We'll be fine," said Leonardo encouragingly.

Don shook his head. "We're doomed."

"It's clear, guys. No one's around." Casey stuck his head in the window. "Looks like the truck is empty, but… well, Don, you'd better have a look."

Donatello and Leonardo jumped down from the van, grateful for a chance to stretch their legs. "What is it, Casey?" asked Don, striding toward the truck.

"Umm…"

"Oh shell." Donatello stood, staring.

Leonardo came up behind him and looked over his shoulder. "Donny, is that…"

"Yeah. I think it's Raph's coat. And there's an awful lot of blood." Donatello reached in gingerly, and picked the trench coat. "Look, the blood's all on this side, and at the bottom. He must have hurt his leg. It looks like a lot, but the fabric's not very absorbent. It's spread out… it isn't as bad as it looks."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. Besides, if he was still bleeding, his heart's still pumping." _At least he was alive when he left his coat behind._ Don kept the thought behind his teeth. Raph was tough, but that pool of blood they found back in the alley... Donatello shook his head. _Raph's going to be _fine._ We're going to find him and bring him home._

"Thank goodness for that, anyway." Leonardo turned toward the river, scanning the brush and trees. "Let's start looking."

***

Raphael groaned. _Shell…_ His leg and arm _hurt_. He could feel something warm and wet trickling down his thigh from beneath the makeshift bandage. His arm… his arm was on fire. He pushed himself up off the ground where he lay, and wished he hadn't. The fire in his arm exploded into a flash of pain that had his head reeling.

_Mental note: Do not use right arm._

He moaned softly, but forced himself to get to his feet. He heard a rustle to his left, and whirled to face it. The boy, Juan, was white as a ghost. He took one sick look at Raphael's angry glare, and turned tail and ran.

_Heh. Smart kid_. Raph groaned again, and started toward the trees. _Better follow his lead an' make myself scarce_.

"Don't move, Turtle." Raphael froze, swearing under his breath. He turned to face Johanna. She had the rifle leveled squarely at him. "Yer comin' wit' us." Billy stepped forward, another gun in his hands.

Thomas lay on the ground, a few feet away, unmoving.

"What about Pa, Jo?" Billy's eyes were fastened on his father.

"Check 'im, Billy. Is he breathin'?"

"Shell, I didn't hit him _dat_ hard," protested Raph. Billy knelt next to his father's form and touched his neck.

"Yeah, his heart's beatin' an' I can feel him breathin'." Relief flooded his face.

_Huh. Da kid actually cares if his ol' man lives. I guess I'm glad I didn't kill 'im._

"What're we gonna do, Jo?"

"We're gonna stick ta da plan, Billy. We're gonna take dis t'ing back ta da house an' lock it in da shed. Den we're gonna come back fer Pa an' Cameron."

"What about Juan?"

Johanna snorted. "He's halfway back ta da city by now."

"He'll come back." Billy gazed at her stubbornly.

"Den we'll get 'im when we come back fer Pa. Right now let's get dis turtle back ta da truck."

While they planned their next move, Raph looked down at his arm. He hissed in pain and dismay. A large patch was red and black, and blood dripped down his elbow. _Da gun musta gone off close enough ta burn me,_ he thought. _At least it don't look deep. Hurts like shell, though._

"Ok, come on, Turtle." Billy grabbed the end of the chain and gave it a yank. Raphael staggered forward with a growl. He took the chain in his hands, and jerked it away from the kid. Johanna cocked the gun. The _click_ echoed, freezing Raph in his tracks. He glared at her, and she scowled.

"Move, Turtle." She gestured with the gun. Raph had no choice. He marched slowly down the bank. "Get in da boat," she snapped. Raph sighed, but climbed into the bow and perched. _I'll jus' jump overboard…_ But the gun was trained squarely on him.

"Don't try it, Turtle. You couldn't dive deep enough to out-swim a bullet." Jo smirked, and Raphael swore. She ignored him, climbing into the center seat.

"Hold da gun on 'im, Billy. Ya can't row wit' dat arm."

_I wonder if he can shoot straight… better not find out. Cameron said this water's polluted. I already got one infection from it. Better not chance another, with all this raw skin 'round my neck._ _Aw, shell, guys. I wish you were here._

Johanna pushed the boat off, and began rowing down the river. It seemed to take an eternity for them to get back to the boat launch. The black flies were attracted to Raph's bleeding neck, and they descended to feast. He got some relief by slapping at them, but the chain got in the way, interfering with his efforts to rid himself of the pests.

"Ya best let me go," he growled, glaring at the kids.

Johanna laughed. "Or what?"

"Or ya'll regret it," snapped Raphael.

"I doubt that, Critter."

"Whatdaya want wit' me, anyway? Do ya really t'ink ya can just keep me aroun' until ya can sell me? Yer neighbors or da cops or someone will spot me, an' ya won't get a dime."

"Our neighbors know better dan ta stick their noses where they don't belong," said Billy. "An' Pa drinks wit' half da cops down at Rosie's."

Raphael fell silent. _So that's how he gets away wit' beatin' up on Cameron. Even da local cops drink wit' him. Poor kid doesn' t have a chance. No wonder he wants ta get outta here._

Raphael closed his eyes against the sun's glare. He was beginning to feel dizzy and sick. He hadn't eaten since the rabbit stew Cameron made, and hadn't had a drink since taking a few quick swallows from the stream as he and Cameron fled the night before. He was hungry, thirsty, and completely out of patience.

"Look, Kid. Billy. I did see yer brother. He's ok. He wouldn't come near da boat 'cause he knew somet'in wasn't right. He was scared of ya."

"Yer lyin'!" Billy shifted, rocking the boat. He was glaring at Raphael. "Yer lyin'!" he shouted again, as if he could convince himself by repeating it. "Cameron ain't scared o' us!" Johanna snorted, and Raph saw Billy shoot her a wounded look.

"Yer quite a bunch," growled Raphael. "Beatin' up on a little kid, kidnappin' me. Leavin' yer Pa ta die back there. Yeah, real strong family ya got here."

"Shut up, Turtle," said Johanna. Billy's eyes were wild, and the gun wavered in his hands. "Ya don't know what yer talkin' about!" he yelled, his voice quavering.

"Of course he don't, Billy. What does a critter know 'bout _family_," Johanna soothed her brother. "He don't know not'in. He's jus' tryin' ta rattle ya."

"We're goin' back fer Pa an' Cameron," said Billy. "As soon as we drop dis one off, we're goin' back."

"Of course we are."

"She'll prolly go back an' shoot yer Dad, so she don't have ta give up da money," sneered Raph. Billy's hand tightened dangerously on the gun.

"Shut up, Turtle, 'fore my brother shoots ya," said Johanna softly. Raphael took in the boy's wild blue eyes and his knuckles, white on the stock, and closed his mouth with a snap.

_Better not push my luck. Da kid looks unbalanced._

He rode in silence for another five minutes, until Johanna rowed the boat up onto the shallow slope of the boat launch. Raphael ducked as he spotted the truck. _Aw, shell. Just what I need, to come dis far, and get spotted._ Johanna seemed to have the same idea.

"Billy, give me da gun, an' go check dat van. We'll hafta sneak him up ta da truck. I don't want nobody seein' him."

"Ok." Billy climbed out of the boat, slogging through the water and up onto shore. In a few minutes he returned, looking triumphant. "There ain't nobody here, Jo. Just a van. They're prolly off picnicin' on shore somewhere."

"Good. I'd hate ta hafta shoot 'em," said Johanna. "Let's go, Turtle."

"I tol' ya, Kid, da name's Raphael." Raph stood up, and leapt lightly out of the boat, landing on shore. He swayed as pain shot through his leg. He staggered, and only the thought of falling on his burning arm kept him on his feet.

"Get in da truck, Raphael."

Billy reached for Raph's arm, and Raph growled, taking a defensive stance. They'd have to shoot him if they wanted to get him in that truck. Another wave of dizziness washed over him, and he swayed again, the edges of his vision blurring.

"Don't let him crack his shell, Billy. He won't be worth as much…" Darkness overtook Raphael, and he never heard Billy's cry of pain as the boy tried to catch him and ended up on the ground, pinned under Raph's shell.


	17. Chapter 17 Trapped

**A/N: Obviously Billy and Jo have managed to avoid the rescue party. So far.  
Reviews are, as always, loved. *passes out tea and cookies* Some of you are looking a little ragged. Here, have some extra cookies. And mind those cliffs.**

**

* * *

**_Chapter 17 -Trapped-  
~~~_

"Let me _outta _here!" Raphael pounded the sturdy wall of the shed again, ignoring the pain in his arm and roared, yelling every curse he could think of. Silence was his only answer. He'd woken in the shed, the chain freshly attached to a stud, his hands bound in front of his plastron and his ankles tied tightly. Only his extensive training allowed him to hop to his feet and lean against the wall so he could beat against it with his bound wrists. The chain was too short to do much besides sit up, stand and lie down.

_At least I got enough slack to do that much,_ he thought. _If it were any shorter, I'd be hangin'._

He examined his hands, which were starting to ache from the abuse of bouncing off the rough wooden wall. Small cuts were beginning to leak blood and splinters were embedded along his hands and wrists. At least his arm had stopped bleeding. Raph hissed with pain and frustration and sank to the ground, resting his shell against the wall. The dirt floor was cool and damp under his legs, adding to the discomfort. He glared around the shed, searching for anything which might help him cut the chain again. All the tools had been removed to a far corner, out of reach. Raphael glared at the shovel and axe as if he could transport them to himself by telekinesis, but it was one skill Master Splinter had never taught them, if it were even possible to move things by force of the mind.

_Aw, shell, guys. I'm sorry. I guess I ain't gonna make it back ta da city after all. I'm passin' out now from blood loss an' stuff. I wonder if dem kids ever plan ta give a turtle somet'in ta eat. I sure could go fer a big ol' pizza right now. Even a "Mikey Special" as he likes ta call 'em. I swear da last pizza he made, he used chocolate sauce in dem toppings. Crazy guy. _A tear soaked into Raphael's mask. _Shell, I'm gonna miss him. Mikey, I'm sorry. I guess yer gonna miss me, too. Unless I find a way outta dis mess, I dunno how I'm ever gonna get home. _

"Raphael?" The quiet voice shocked a startled growl from the turtle. He leaped to his feet, and nearly fell over, hindered by the bindings.

"Who's there?" Raph glared at the door, ready to annihilate anyone who entered the shed, bindings and chain notwithstanding.

"Raphael, it's me, Cameron. Are you ok?"

"Hey, Kid. What're ya doin' here? Ya should be hidin', shouldn't ya? Where's yer father?"

"Billy and Jo came back an' got Pa, an' Juan. They're all in da house but Pa. I walked down ta da bridge, an' crossed da river there. It's only a couple o' miles. Dat's how I got ta da cabin da first time."

"Do they know yer back?"

"No."

"Can ya get me outta here, Kid?"

"I… I don't know. All da tools 're in da shed, an' I can't bust da lock, Jo'll hear da noise an' come out. Pa's in a pretty bad mood. I t'ink ya busted his ribs."

Raphael smirked. "Sorry 'bout dat, Kid. He was gonna shoot me."

He heard Cameron snicker. "It's ok. It's about time somebody hit 'im back. Anyway, he's down at Rosie's, drownin' da pain."

"What're they gonna do wit' me, Kid?"

"I dunno. I was hangin' around outside da window but I couldn't hear much. Pa was pretty mad wit' Johanna fer bringin' ya back here first, leavin' him lay. He got over it 'cause they still got ya."

"Kid, ya gotta get outta here."

"Raphael, I can't leave ya! They were gonna sell ya…"

"No, Cameron, listen. Ya can still help me. I'll give ya a number ta call. Let my bro's know where I am. They'll come. They always do. They'll get me outta here."

"I can do that, if I can get ta town."

"Good." Raphael repeated Don's number. "Can ya call 'im, Kid?"

"Yeah. It'll take me a while ta get ta town, though. I'll get goin' now."

"Ok, great. And Cameron?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"You got it, Raphael."

Raphael leaned back against the shed wall, closing his eyes. He heard the boy move off, and for the first time, hope surged in his chest. Cameron could call Don, tell the guys where he was. All he had to do was stay alive and wait for the rescue.

_I bet Leo's got his lecture all planned out. Prolly has color-coded note cards ready. Well, bring it on, Bro. I can't wait ta see ya._

Raphael dozed, leaning uncomfortably against the wall. He wasn't sure how much later it was when the shout woke him.

"I'm tellin' ya, Boy, ya've run off fer da last time!" Thomas Roberts sounded angry and very drunk. Raphael's eyes snapped open, and he jumped up with a grunt as his stiff muscles protested.

"But Pa, I weren't runnin' off…" Cameron's frightened whimper made Raph's eyes narrow behind his mask.

_Aw shell. Da kid went an' got himself caught. _

There was a distinct sound of a slap, and a high wail from the boy. Raphael grabbed the chain in his hands and yanked, desperate to pull it loose from the stud, to get out there, but it held fast, the links slipping through his hands and digging into his skin. He cursed, and kicked the wall, bouncing back and yelling with rage and pain as the chain dug into his neck.

_Mebbe I can distract 'im,_ thought Raph. He threw himself against the wall, shell first, making the walls rattle with the impact. He did it again and again, for almost five minutes, before he heard the rattle of the padlock on the door. Raph stopped, swaying, feeling dizzy and ill from the repeated impacts and the new round of protests from his aggravated injuries. The door swung open, and Thomas Roberts' bulky sillouette filled the doorway. Raph could smell the liquor from across the shed.

"Knock it off, Turtle, 'fore I give ya somethin' ta yell about!" snarled Thomas.

Raph swore colorfully, insulting the man's heritage and intelligence with one curse. Roberts stepped into the shed, instinctively reaching for his belt. Raphael crouched, ready to attack the man if he came close enough.

"Ya best watch yer mouth, Turtle."

"Watch yours, scumbag," growled Raph as the man staggered closer… closer… Raph launched himself into the air, performing a neat spin-kick, which caused the chain to jerk again, throwing him off balance. He crashed to the ground, and felt the pain streak through his injured arm. He saw with satisfaction that he'd caught Thomas square in the chest, and the man was rolling about, clutching his ribs.

_Good. now ya know how it feels when ya beat up on yer kid, ya big bully. _ Raph watched as the man managed to get to his feet. He started toward Raphael again, murder flashing in his dark eyes. Raph crouched, preparing to defend himself, knowing the chain and bonds were too big a handicap, that he really didn't stand a chance.

_I'll go down fightin'_, he thought. _Ya ain't gonna be able ta just beat on me like ya do yer kid…_

"Pa! What're ya doin' out here?" Johanna's voice cut through the night air like a knife. "Come on inside, Pa. I made ya some meatloaf. Come on, now." She took the big man by his arm, and led him away, grumbling disjointed threats.

_He must be pretty drunk, ta let her distract him like that,_ thought Raph. _Good t'ing fer him. _

He tensed, hearing footsteps approach the shed once more. Billy entered the shed slowly, cautiously, staying well out of Raphael's range, holding the shotgun like an extension of himself. He watched the turtle warily.

"What were ya makin' all dat noise fer?" he asked. Raphael sighed, sinking to the ground.

"Yer Dad was beatin' up on Cameron. I was tryin' ta get his attention," he said.

"Ya got it all right. Ya almost got yerself killed. Pa's mean when he's drunk."

"Looks ta me like he's mean all da time."

"He's my Pa," said Billy, as if that explained and settled everything. Raphael snorted, but didn't bother answering.

"I brung ya somet'in ta eat. If ya try attackin' me, I won't bring ya not'in else. Ya can starve fer all I care."

Raphael glared, trying not to let his hunger show. He would not give, not a single inch. Billy watched him for a long moment, frowning. Finally he approached, slowly. Raphael saw a plate in his hand, and caught a whiff of food.

"Johanna ain't much fer a sister, but she can cook," said Billy, a note of pride creeping into his voice. He was awkward, carrying the plate in his splinted hand. It slipped, and Raphael gasped. If the food dropped to the floor, he was sure the kid wouldn't bother bringing more.

"Listen, Billy. If ya just set it down where I can reach it, I won't hurt ya, ok?" Raphael backed up, and sat down, his shell to the wall again. "I'm hungry."

"Ok." Billy set the gun down, well out of Raph's range, and approached slowly. He set the plate on the ground, still well out of reach, and slid it toward Raph, watching him.

Raphael shook his head. "I ain't gonna be able ta reach dat, Kid," he growled. Billy's hands shook as he pushed the plate closer. He was watching Raphael with wide blue eyes. "Ok, dat's good." Raph growled. He watched with a smirk as Billy scrambled back, grabbing for his gun.

"Why don'tcha let Cameron bring me food, if yer too scared?" asked Raph.

"Pa locked Cameron in his room so he don't run off again," said Billy.

_There goes that plan. Damn,_ thought Raph. _Well, Kid, at least ya tried. Mebbe you'll get a chance ta call my bros later on. I hope yer Dad didn't knock Don's number right outta yer head. _

He stood up and moved toward the plate, stretching the last few inches to grasp it awkwardly. He backed up to give himself some slack in the chain, and sat down again, balancing the plate on his knees. The meatloaf smelled amazing. He glanced at Billy.

"How'm I supposed ta eat it?"

Billy shrugged. "Wit' yer hands, I guess. Jo won't give ya a fork." Raphael sighed, but picked up the warm brown lump in his fingers. He managed to eat it without dropping too much down the front of his plastron. He gobbled the green beans, picking up the plate to lick the last bits from it. Finally satisfied he'd gotten the last scrap of food, if not enough to really fill his stomach, he set the plate down.

"Gimme da plate."

"Come 'n get it." Billy glared, raising the gun.

Raphael chuckled. "Put away yer toy, Kid. Ya ain't gonna shoot me."

"Don't count on it."

"Yer sister'd tear you apart fer killin' off her meal ticket."

"Jo says we can sell yer body. She says if yer too much trouble, we'll just shoot ya an' sell yer body ta some scientist dude. She talked ta him today. He wants ya alive, but if yer too much trouble, she says she'll just tell him ya tried ta get away. She says yer worth almost as much dead as alive."

Raphael's eyes narrowed. "What scientist?"

"I dunno… Some priest or somet'in."

"Preist? Da ya mean… Bishop?"

"Yeah, I t'ink dat's da name."

_Oh no. No, no… not Bishop. Anybody but him._ Raph thought fast. _I bet Bishop didn't tell 'em he works fer da government. They're not exactly da authority-lovin' types._

"I know 'im, Kid. He's just gonna rip ya off. He's high-level government. He's just gonna take me an' you'll disappear. You an' yer whole family. Mebbe Cameron'll go ta foster care, ya know, ta be re-programmed an' have his memory erased…"

"Yer crazy. Ya don't know what yer talkin' about!" snapped Billy. "Jo knows what she's doin'."

"She ain't never run inta da likes o' Bishop, Kid." Raph's voice sounded tired, even to him. "He caught us once, me an' my bro's. We got out dat time, fought our way out. He's nuts. He wants ta cut us up, study us…"

"Now I _know_ yer lyin'. If dis guy's so smart, how come we caught ya, an he couldn't?"

"I was _hurt_ when ya found me, Kid," growled Raphael, stung. "An' alone."

"Ya mean there's more of ya?" Raphael cursed himself for his foolishness, and remained silent. _Now da kid'll be huntin' da guys. Way to go, Raphael._

"Dat's right, Juan did say there are more of ya. Mebbe Juan an' I'll go inta da turtle-huntin' business. I wonder what he'd pay fer da rest o' you…" Billy's eyes widened at the speed at which Raphael gained his feet. He just managed to duck the plate, flung like a missile at his head. It shattered against the wall as Raphael strained against the chain, his bound hands reaching for the boy's throat.

"Ya leave my family _alone!"_ screamed Raph, ignoring the pain, ignoring everything, in his efforts to reach the boy and strangle him. Billy backed out of the shed, his blue eyes wide, and slammed the doors. Raph heard the lock click into place. Regaining his control, he backed up, and reached up to wipe the blood away that trickled irritatingly down his neck, pooling at the top of his plastron.

_Aw, shell, Donny'll wanna give me another tetanus booster after dis._


	18. Chapter 18 Reunion

**A/N: Ironically enough, I'm going to a family reunion/graduation party today, so review replies will be late in coming.  
Read and review, please! **

**

* * *

**_Chapter 18 -Reunion-  
~~~_

Michelangelo shifted, groaning. _My head hurts. Why's my head hurt? Why can't I feel my fingers? Oh shell, I hope I didn't lose 'em. They were here a minute ago, when I went to sleep. That's it, I must still be sleepin'. My bed ain't this cold, though, and when did it get so hard? This isn't good. I've gotta talk to Donny about scavenging a new mattress for me…_

"It's waking up."

_What? What the shell? Who's there? Raphie?_ With an effort, Michelangelo opened his eyes, and immediately wished he hadn't. _Oh man, Hun is not the first thing a turtle wants to see when he wakes up. It's enough to give a guy a heart-attack from that much ugly bein' in one place all at the same time._ _Wait a minute. Hun? What's he doing in my bedroom? Hun's in the Lair! _

Mikey's eyes snapped open, and he let out a yell, trying to scramble to his feet. He was defeated by the ropes binding his wrists and ankles, and fell back with a sickening _thud_.

_Ok, ow. I won't do that again._

"Relax, Turtle, you're not going anywhere," sneered Hun.

_No kidding, genius. Like I couldn't figure that out on my own._

Mikey twisted, turning, testing the bonds, but they were cruelly tight. He shrank away as Hun approached; glaring with what he hoped was a fair imitation of Raph's famous death-glare. Hun's smirk made him suspect he was less than successful.

"Well, well, it seems we'll be rid of _two_ turtles. Two down, two to go."

"Shut up, Hun. Raph's fine. He's sittin' at home right now, prolly watchin' the game on TV…"

"Raphael's dead, you idiot," Hun smirked. "One of my own men finished him, left him to bleed out in an alley like the _freak_ that he is."

"Oh yeah? Where's the body?" Michelangelo flinched as Hun's huge hand twitched.

"Bishop's buying it from some stupid kid upstate," remarked Hun, watching Mikey's eyes widen. "He's picking it up before he comes for _you._ Yeah, Bishop'll pay quite a lot for one of you. He'll pay more if you're _alive_, so it's your lucky day. You're not going to die, Turtle. Not _yet,_ anyway."

"A…agent Bishop?"

"Yeah, I hear you're old friends," sneered Hun. Michelangelo went several shades paler, but he struggled to keep his voice steady.

"What does all this have to do with April? Why'd ya take her, anyway? Let her go, Hun. Let her go, an' I won't give ya any trouble."

Hun's guffaw echoed through the room. "You won't give me any trouble, Turtle," he leaned close. "If ya want yer girlfriend to go home in one piece."

"Let her _go_," yelled Michelangelo. Hun's meaty paw struck him, hard across the cheek. A punch like a pile driver caught him in the plastron, knocking his breath out of his chest.

"Shut it, _Michelangelo_," growled Hun.

"Kiss… my… shell…" gasped Mikey, drawing painful breaths. Hun glowered, and Mikey tensed, expecting another blow, but the man turned away in disgust.

"I don't have time for you," he growled. "I think I'll go see how your little friend is doing. She and I could get to be friends. Yeah, I think we could get to be _real good_ friends." He glanced over his shoulder, smirking.

Michelangelo made it to his feet this time, balancing precariously. "You leave her _alone_," he screamed, furious. Hun's punch sent him crashing back into the wall, unable to control his balance, he tipped over, landing hard on his shoulder with a moan.

"You just keep quiet, Turtle, if you know what's good for you. Bishop'll pay a handsome finder's fee, whether you're alive or… not." He laughed and left Michelangelo lying on the floor, spitting blood and cursing.

***

Splinter's meditation was disturbed quite suddenly by the annoying beep of a small device on his low table. He sighed, picking it up and flipping it open. Leonardo's face appeared on the small screen.

"Sensei?"

"Yes, Leonardo. Have you news of your brother?"

"Not yet, Sensei. I'm sorry to disturb you, but do you know where Michelangelo is?"

"No, Leonardo. He went out several hours ago, to speak with Miss O'Neil. Is something wrong?"

"Yes, Sensei. I asked Mikey to have April call us as soon as possible. She hasn't contacted us, and now Mikey's not answering his shell-cell. It's not like him to be so irresponsible."

"I agree." Splinter fingered the gadget in his hand thoughtfully. "Leonardo, Donatello created these devices with a tracking mechanism, did he not?"

"Yes, Sensei."

"Can you tell me how to activate the tracer? Perhaps I can locate Michelangelo."

"Sure. You just push the small yellow button. Do you see it?"

"Yes…" Splinter peered closely at the buttons. Ah, that one… _Beep_. "Leonardo are you still there?"

"Yes, Father." The voice came eerily from the phone, though a small grid had replaced the picture on the screen. "Do you see a flashing dot on the screen?"

"Yes, Leonardo, I see it."

"Good. That's where Mikey is."

"I… see." Spinter shook his head. The technology, which came so naturally to his sons, left him confused. _Leonardo has enough on his mind. I will not worry him with my failure to comprehend this equipment. I do not require technology to find my son._

"I will call you when I locate your brother, Leonardo."

"Thank you, Splinter. And Father?"

"Yes?"

"Good luck."

"May fate be kind to you as well, my son." Splinter snapped the shell-cell closed, and set it down on the table. Thinking again, he picked it up and tucked it into his pocket. _If I am successful, I will need to call them again. Perhaps Michelangelo can make the call. He is more adept at using this device than I._

Splinter picked up his walking stick, and donned the worn trench coat and wide-brimmed hat he wore on the now rare occasions he ventured above-ground. He left the Lair, and began scouring the city streets for his missing son.

***

April groaned. _This concrete isn't getting any softer_, she thought. _Come on, guys, where are you? Oh, of course, you're upstate, finding Raph. Oh, Raph, I hope you're ok. Hun's lying. He has to be. No way could some random gang member take you down. You're the Nightwatcher. You're… you're _Raph_. You're tough. You're invincible. _April's tears wet the floor, without her noticing. _If I tell myself that long enough, maybe I'll start to believe it. _A sudden shout made April jerk in the restraints, and a whimper escaped her as the ropes cut into her hands.

"Oh, for crying out loud… If it will _shut him up_," roared Hun. "Fetch the girl. Bring her in, let him see her. It's the only way to get some _peace_!"

A commotion outside, and the door swung open, banging against the wall. April squinted against the sudden burst of light from the hall. Two men stalked into the room. One was smirking. The other one's glare was cold and angry.

"Dis is stupid," remarked the angry one. "Why don't he just kill it? Bishop'll still pay."

"'Cause Bishop'll pay more if it's alive. Now quit yer grousin' an' let's get her in there."

"Hey! What're you doing? Put me _down_," yelped April as they grabbed her arms and yanked her unceremoniously to her feet.

"Hold her," growled the angry one. He leaned down, and April instinctively kicked, using the man holding her arm to balance, as she saw the knife in his hand. He yelped and smacked her leg, hard.

"Knock it off." He glared up at her. "I've gotta cut the ropes. Unless you want us ta drag ya." He grabbed her leg, holding her still while he sliced through the ropes. April hissed with pain as he pulled them away from her raw ankles. The second man gave her a little shove, and she cried out as her weight shifted onto her own feet. She staggered, barely keeping her balance. He grabbed her arm again just as she was falling, hauling her back up.

"Come on. Yer friend wants ta see ya," he growled. April felt a chill.

_My friend? That guy Hun was talking about? Sullivan? What does he want with me? _

The men marched April out of the room and down a short hall. Before she could see more than a few yards of stained beige carpet and smudged white walls, she was shoved through a door and into another small, bare office-like room. The door slammed shut behind her as April staggered and fell painfully to her knees.

"April?" A voice made her head snap up in shock.

"_Mikey?_"

"April, are you ok? They didn't hurt ya, did they?" Michelangelo struggled to sit up, squirming toward April. She scrambled to her feet, limped over, and knelt beside him. She winced when she saw the angry bruise on his cheek and the scrape on his face where Hun had smacked him.

"Mikey, are you ok? How'd they get you?"

"Well, you know, I was out for a stroll, an' Hun invited me ta come over fer tea an' cookies," Mikey joked.

"Here, let me see if I can untie you," said April, maneuvering so she could reach the ropes binding his wrists.

"Oh… ahh… I dunno, Ape, these ropes are pretty tight."

"Mikey, your hands! They're cold."

"It's ok, April. I don't even feel them." Michelangelo tried a weak smile. April shook her head, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"It's not funny. The circulation's cut off. You could have serious damage."

"That's the least of my worries right now."

"What did he do to you? Are you hurt?"

"Nah, I'm tough. I'm the Turtle Titan, remember? Battle Nexus Champion? Hun can't dish out anything I can't take."

_Bishop, on the other hand…_ Michelangelo hid the flash of fear that shot through him from his friend. They were in a big enough mess, without worrying her any further. April maneuvered so that she could sit, resting against his plastron. "We're together, Mike. Everything's gonna be ok. The guys will be back soon. They'll come for us."

_I hope they get here before Bishop does_, thought Mikey, swallowing hard.

"Oh, April, Leo asked me to tell ya to call him when I see you."

April laughed. "I'm a little tied up at the moment," she quipped.

"Yeah." Michelangelo chuckled. They lapsed into silence, thinking separate thoughts.

"Hey, April?"

"Yeah, Mikey?"

"Raph… do you think he's ok?"

"Raphael's tough, Mike. I _know_ he's ok."

Michelangelo smiled. "Yeah. Hey, April?"

"Yes?"

"We're gonna be ok, too." It wasn't quite a question.

April sighed. "Of course we are, Mikey. Of course we are."


	19. Chapter 19 The Rescue

**A/N: Another almost-near-miss. The guys missed Jo and Billy when they arrived with Raph back at the boat launch, because they were searching the woods for the source of the gunshot. Now Jo and Billy are back to pick up Thomas.**

For timeline purposes, the first half of this is basically a flashback, of what's going on while Raph is in the shed. His POV in the second half brings you back to the "present".

* * *

_Chapter 19 -The Rescue-  
~~~_

"Don, where'd the truck go?" Leonardo stared at the empty parking space.

"I… I don't know! No! This can't be! That van was our only sure connection to whoever took Raph. I knew we shouldn't have gone off searching in the woods!"

"Look, it's coming back!" Leonardo pointed

"Hide, guys!" Casey stared around, bewildered. Two five-foot tall ninja turtles had simply disappeared. "I _hate_ it when you guys do that," he muttered. Thinking fast, he strode over to the rented van, jumped into the passenger seat, and leaned it back, crossing his arms over his chest and half-closing his eyes, as if he'd been napping for a while.

He heard the delivery truck pull into the parking lot. Doors slammed, and he heard voices muttering.

"…that?"

"Dunno…sleepin'. Just some dumb…"

"Jo…"

Casey sat up, stretching and yawning widely, as if he were just waking up. He opened the door and hopped down from the cab as if to stretch his legs. He raised his eyebrows, taking in the two blond teenagers glaring at him from across the lot. The girl was tall and lanky, but she had a determined, aggressive stance that put Casey's back up immediately. Casey noticed a crude splint encasing the boy's arm.

"Afternoon," said Casey, with a casual wave. Two sets of ice-blue eyes regarded him, their gazes appropriately cold. Casey tried again. "Goin' fishin'?"

The boy glanced at the girl, and cleared his throat. "Nah. Just pickin' up our Pa an' brother. They're stayin' at Pa's cabin. You?"

"My friend likes to fish," said Casey, fighting down a sense of unease. "But I got bored and came back ta da truck. We're headin' further up da river as soon as he gets back. There's nothin' interestin' ta find here."

"Nope. Dis river's too dirty," remarked the boy with a smirk. "Yer friend is right, go further upriver, ya'll have better luck."

"T'anks fer da tip, Kid, we will." Casey smiled widely. He leaned back against the truck. Ya'll from 'round here?"

"Yeah," said the boy.

The girl glared. "Com'on, Billy. We gotta pick Pa up."

"Yeah. See ya," said the boy, turning away. The girl strode off toward the boat launch, the boy loping along behind her. Casey watched them go through narrowed eyes. His hand twitched. _Man, I wish I had my bat,_ he thought, scowling. _Those kids're up ta somet'in, I can _feel_ it. I coulda _beat_ da truth outta 'em. _

"Casey." He nearly jumped out of his skin as Leo's hand touched his shoulder.

"Geez, Leo, don't sneak up on a guy like dat!" cried Casey.

"Sorry." Leonardo didn't sound particularly apologetic. "What do you think?"

"I t'ink those two know where Raph is."

"And you base this knowledge on?…" Donatello looked at Casey, quizzical.

"It's just a feelin'," said Casey. Leo and Don exchanged looks. "What? Ya t'ink yer da only ones who get feelin's?"

"No, Casey," said Leonardo. "That's the thing. Don and I have the same feeling."

Casey stared, then shook his head. "Great. Jus' great. Now I been hangin' out wit' turtles so much, I'm startin' ta _t'ink_ like ya."

Donatello snickered. Leonardo just shook his head. "Let's follow them."

"Why? They'll come back ta da truck, won't they?"

"We can't chance it. And what if they're going to where Raph is? The boy mentioned a cabin. What if they're holding Raph there?"

"No way a couple kids could keep Raph!" Casey glared at the insult to his friend.

"I bet these help," said Donatello quietly, peering through the truck window.

Leonardo moved to his brother's side, and swore. "They've got guns."

"Bad news guys. They also have a boat." Casey was staring toward the river. Leo and Don turned in time to hear the creak of an oar and a quiet splash.

"What do we do now?" asked Donatello, looking at his brother with something like despair.

"We find Raphael," said Leo grimly. "Come on. We'll follow them."

"How?"  
"It's a river, Casey. It's not like they can get out of sight, unless they have a motor on that thing. We'll follow them and find this cabin."

"Ya t'ink Raph's there?"

"I don't know, but we're going to find out."

***

Raphael felt cold again, but every so often a wave of heat would wash over him, making him shiver strangely. He heard voices outside, then silence again. The kids hadn't come back to check on him, or try to feed him again. He'd long since lost track of time.

A shout drifted to him from the house. _Da old man… he's yellin' at Cameron_. The thought drifted through Raph's mind, making him stir and grunt with the effort to sit up. _Gotta stop 'im. Gotta make some noise. _He managed to kick the wall of the shed, but the thump was muffled. Raph fell back with a groan. _Sorry, Kid. I can't help ya right now._

The rattle of the lock caught Raphael's attention, and he tensed. _Bishop can't be here already. Oh shell. Guys, I'm sorry. I didn't want to end this way. _ There was a sharp _crack_, making Raph flinch, and the door creaked open. He squinted against the bright light. Suddenly a tall man was silhouetted in the dim early-morning light. He rushed toward Raphael. Raph yelped and jerked back as he knelt beside him, reaching for his arm.

"Hey, Raph, it's me. Are ya ok, dude?" Raphael stared up at the dark hair and blue eyes.

_Casey? No. No way. I've gone outta my tree. No way is Casey here. I've finally lost it. I'm dreamin'…_

"Raph? Buddy, say somet'in! Raph, speak ta me!"

"Casey…" Raphael's voice was raspy, his throat dry. He coughed convulsively, and wished he hadn't. "Casey Jones… ya bonehead."

"Raph!" The big man wound his arms around Raphael, pulling him up so he was sitting against the shed wall. It was as close to a hug as Casey would ever come. "He's here, guys! Come on," he called softly.

Raphael's eyes widened as first Leonardo, then Donatello, appeared in the doorway. They rushed to him, kneeling in the now-crowded space. Donatello's hands touched Raph's arm, seeking out his injuries instinctively. His chocolate brown eyes were wet with tears.

"Raphael, you idiot. We thought you were…" A sob caught in his throat. His eyes narrowed as he saw the chain. "What the _shell_?"

"What is it, Don?" Leonardo knelt, his hand on Raph's plastron, his dark eyes searching his brother for injuries. When his gaze landed on the chain around Raph's neck, an uncharacteristic growl escaped his throat. "They _chained_ you?" Leonardo drew his katana.

"Leo, wait," rasped Raph, but it was too late. The katana flashed, and the Raph grunted as the chain jerked.

"Sorry, bro," said Leo. He gently sliced through the bonds holding Raphael's wrists and ankles. "Don'll have to get it off your neck when we get back to the van. At least you're not… attached to the wall anymore." Raph nodded, trying a smile.

"Let's get 'im outta here," said Casey. He took Raph's arm and pulled. Raphael bit off a yell of pain. "Whatsa matter?"

"Arm…" Raphael rasped. "Shot…"

"You were shot?" Donatello's eye ridges rose in shock.

"It's… ok. Not deep."

"It's _not_ ok, Raph. You're hurt. We've got to get you out of here."

"Sounds… good… ta me." With his brothers supporting his weight, Raphael staggered to his feet. He glanced at Leonardo. "How?"

"We've got a van. Rented," Leo explained. "It's parked down the road, about a mile. Let's get you out of here, into that patch of woods down the road. Casey can bring the van up."

"I'll run ahead an' get da van," said Casey gruffly. Leonardo nodded, and the man disappeared into the night.

Raphael heard a shout from inside the house. He could hear Thomas Roberts' voice growling, and Cameron's high, frightened reply. He stopped short, causing Donatello to stumble and Leonardo's hand to tighten on his shoulder.

"What is it, Raph?"

"Cameron. Can't go wit' out 'im."

"What? Who's Cameron?"

"Boy. Kid. Helped me. Gotta get 'im."

"Raphael, are you off your shell?" Leonardo's incredulous voice made Raph smile, despite his pain.

"Got to, Leo." He straightened, swaying slightly on the injured leg, but taking his weight back from his brothers. He turned, and took a step back toward the cabin before Donatello's hand on his arm caused him to lose his balance and stumble.

"Get _off,_ Donny," he growled. Donatello's hand was firm. Raph turned his glare on his brother and was met with worried brown eyes. Another shout from the house, and Raph heard a yelp from Cameron. "I gotta go."

"Raph…"

He took about two steps before swaying again and nearly falling on his face. Strong brotherly hands caught his arms, holding him back. "Raphael!" Leonardo yanked his brother back, glaring into his eyes. "What the _shell_ is wrong with you? Those humans have guns!"

"I'm goin', Leo. I gotta help da kid."

"_Why_, Raph?"

Amber eyes locked with Leo's dark gaze. "Honor, Leo. I gave 'im my word."


	20. Chapter 20 Stranded

**A/N: You didn't think they'd get home _that_ easily, now did you?  
But they will get home safe. Eventually. ;)**

**Thank you kindly for the many and enthusiastic reviews! They are much appreciated!**

**

* * *

**_Chapter 20 -Stranded-  
~~~_

Billy Roberts winced, hearing his father's hand strike his brother again. Pa was really mad now. Cameron had tried climbing out the window, using a knotted sheet to reach the ground. Pa'd caught him tying the sheet to the bed, and he was furious. Pa smacked Cameron again, and the boy yelled. Billy wished he'd shut up.

_He's just makin' Pa madder._ Almost unintentionally, he got to his feet, and started toward the stairs.

"Where ya goin?" Jo glared at him from her perch on the arm of the couch.

"I'm gonna talk ta Pa."

"I wouldn't mess wit' him right now," she warned.

Billy shook his head. "Somebody's gotta talk ta him," he said stubbornly. "Cameron…"

"Cameron's gettin' what he deserves," she snapped. "He tried ta help that turtle get away."

"Nobody deserves ta get beat," retorted Billy.

"Don't be stupid, Billy." He ignored her, climbing the stairs. Johanna shrugged. "It's yer funeral."

Billy hesitated outside the door to his brother's room. A _slap_ and yelp from inside made up his mind for him. He pushed the door open. Thomas Roberts stood over Cameron, who was cowering behind the bed, huddled into a corner.

"Pa," said Billy. Thomas didn't turn around. His dark glare was focused on his youngest son.

"Not _now_," snapped Thomas. Cameron flinched.

"Pa…" Thomas turned his head, favoring Billy with a short look from furious eyes. Billy could see that his pupils were dilated; the alcohol was well established in his system.

"I said, not _now._"

"Pa, dis is important."

"Whatdaya want, Boy?" Thomas' shoulders turned now as he focused on his older son.

Billy straightened, staring his father in the eye. "I'm takin' Cameron back ta da city wit' me."

"What?" The glare intensified.

"I… I'm takin' Cameron back wit' me. He can stay wit' Juan's Ma, an' go ta school wit' his sister."

"Don't be stupid, Boy. Cameron' ain't leavin'."

"Cameron. Get up. Get outta here," said Billy tersely, taking a step toward their father.

Thomas growled, holding a hand up toward Cameron. The boy cowered, his huge blue eyes fastened on his older brother. "I said, he ain't goin'," growled Thomas.

Billy felt sweat leaking down the back of his neck. "I'm takin' him, Pa. An' we ain't comin' back. I've had enough o' yer belt an' yer fists. Ya ain't gonna beat 'im anymore. It ain't right."

"Get out." Thomas thundered, turning his entire body toward his elder son now, rage making his hands clench into fists and his dark eyes seem even darker. "Get out of this house, Boy, and don't you come back, ya hear me? Who da ya t'ink ya are, comin' in here an' disrespectin' yer Pa dis way? I raised ya better'n dat!"

"Ya didn't raise me at all," shouted Billy. "Ya live at that bar, an' ya took away da only person who ever cared fer us. Ya killed my Ma!"

Thomas' fist crashed into Billy's jaw. The boy's head snapped back, and he landed on the floor with a _thud_. There were several long seconds of silence. Thomas stood, staring at the still form on the floor, flooded with memories of another figure, another punch, another head bouncing off the wood… _No. I didn't kill him. He's breathin'… He's gotta be. Fool boy, baitin' me like dat, in my own home. Where'd I go wrong? Why'd he hafta push me like dat?_

Thomas was too lost in thought to hear the startled shout downstairs, quickly stifled, but Cameron's fear magnified every creak, every footstep and every sound. The boy startled at the creak of the stairs, but smothered his gasp, desperate to avoid his father's continued attention. In an instant, the room seemed to be swirled in a tornado of green, brown, blue and purple. A long stick crashed into the side of his Pa's head and he dropped like a stone across Cameron's bed. Cameron screamed and covered his head with his arms.

_Raphael's dead, an' his ghost jus' killed my Pa…_ The frantic thought crossed the boy's mind before the silence of the room registered. He sat, tense, strung taught with terror, for a good minute before a slight movement near him made him look up, staring around wildly. He cringed, shrinking further against the wall, as a green hand touched his knee.

"Hey, Kid. Cameron. Are you ok?" An unfamiliar voice, and dark eyes behind a blue mask met Cameron's stare. The turtle was lighter green than Raphael and he wasn't quite as broadly muscular His dark eyes were different, calmer, somehow almost more terrifying than Raphael's golden gaze.

"Wh… who…" Cameron swallowed hard, unable to finish the thought. The turtle touched his arm, and he flinched in pain. The bruises were fresh and ached.

"I'm Leonardo," said the turtle with something like a smile. "This is Donatello." He gestured toward an olive-green turtle standing uncertainly near the bed. "We're Raphael's brothers. He sent us to help you."

"Raphael?"

"Yes. He says you want to come to the city."

"I… I…"

"Look, Kid. We can't stay here. We have to get Raph somewhere he can get medical attention, ok? You don't have to come if you don't want to." Cameron stared at the turtle, silent with shock. Leonardo sighed.

"Leo, we've got to go. Now." Donatello stood shifting nervously, his bo still in his hand. "The lock on that door didn't look very strong. The girl will probably break out, and who knows how many guns they have in this house."

"Ya… ya locked up my sister?" Cameron sat up shakily, leaning against the wall.

"Yeah, in a bedroom downstairs," said Donatello. "Don't worry, we didn't hurt her."

"She'll be mad," said Cameron. He scrambled to his feet, flinching when Leonardo took his hand to help him up. His huge blue eyes met Leo's gaze and he relaxed slightly.

"Raph says he promised to take you to the city, Kid, but we don't want to get into trouble for kidnapping," said Leonardo.

"Don't worry," said Cameron. "Pa won't come lookin' fer me. He'll figure I left with Billy. Ya gotta take Billy, too. Ya gotta take my brother, or Pa'll kill him."

"Oh for…" grumbled Donatello. "Leo, this is the kid who took Raph! We're not taking him with us!"

Leonardo looked into the determined blue eyes and sighed. "Don, I don't think we have a choice. He's hurt. It's obviously not safe here."

_Besides, someone's got to look after the kid once we get back to the city. We're not equipped to handle taking care of him. We heard him tell his father Cameron was going with him. This could work._ He leaned down, picking Billy up, and slung him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "We'll sort this out later. Right now, we've got to get the shell out of here."

Cameron followed the two turtles downstairs. He heard Johanna pounding on her bedroom door, shouting. Her voice was hoarse. He made his way over to the door. The two turtles froze, watching him. The one with Billy was frowning.

"Jo! Johanna!" Cameron shouted to be heard over the racket she was making.

"Me an' Billy 're leavin. Pa's upstairs. He…" Cameron glanced at the turtles. "Billy… knocked 'im out. I'm goin' ta da city wit' Billy. I ain't comin' back. I'm sorry, Jo, but we gotta go."

"Cameron! Cameron, don't you dare! Pa'll have a fit! Don't you leave this house, Boy!" Johanna screamed, sounding enraged.

"Bye, Jo," called Cameron. He turned away. Leonardo pretended not to notice the tears trickling down the boy's face. He walked out the door without a backward glance. Leo met Donatello's tense gaze, and followed the boy outside.

They made their way in silence down the road to where Raphael was resting against a tree in a little patch of woods. There was no sign of Casey or the van.

"Raph, how you doin', Bro?" asked Donatello, kneeling at his side. Cameron rushed over, falling to his knees beside the turtle.

"Cameron," rasped Raphael. "Ya ok, Kid?"

"Yeah, I'm ok. Thanks, Raphael."

"I… promised."Raph said simply. Leonardo leaned down, laying Billy to the ground with reasonable care, if not gentle kindness. Raphael glared. "Why'd ya bring 'im, Leo?"

Leonardo shrugged. "Cameron wouldn't leave him," he explained. He wouldn't meet his brother's eyes.

"He stood up ta Pa," said Cameron. "He tried ta stop 'im. Pa hit him, but he tried, Raphael." His blue eyes pleaded for understanding. "He was tryin' ta protect me. I can't leave him. Pa'd kill 'im."

"I heard him, Raph." Leo's voice was quiet. "I can't forgive him for what he did to you, but he was trying to protect his brother. He… deserves a second chance." Leonardo looked at his brother. Raphael's eyes widened.

_He feels guilty. He t'inks it was his fault I got hurt. Aw, shell, Leo._

"Yeah, Leo. Brothers gotta stick together," said Raph quietly, holding his brother's gaze. Something relaxed in Leonardo's face. He touched Raphael's knee.

Raph grinned, dispelling the moment. "Where's dat bonehead, Casey, anyway?"

Donatello looked up from checking Raph's leg. "He should've been here by now," he remarked.

Leonardo nodded. "I'll go. You take care of Raph," he said. "You'd better tie up this one. He's starting to wake up."

"Wait a minute! What're ya gonna do ta my brother?" Cameron's voice went high with alarm.

"Don't worry, Cameron," said Donatello gently. "We just don't want him to freak out and attack us when he wakes up, that's all. We're not going to hurt him."

Cameron looked at Raphael. "It's ok, Kid," said Raph.

The boy nodded slowly, pale. "Will ya promise, Raphael?"

"Yeah, Kid. I promise."

"Ok." Cameron turned his face away as Donatello knotted thongs around Billy's wrists and ankles. Billy shifted, moaning. Cameron moved over to his brother's side. He reached out and took Billy's bound hands in his own. He noticed with surprise that Don had tied the knots rather loosely. Cameron glanced up at the purple-clad turtle. Donatello was busy tending Raphael's wounds.

Raph coughed fitfully. "Raph, how long have you been coughing like this?" Donatello's worry was evident in his voice. He was frowning fiercely, but didn't look angry. Cameron watched him warily.

"Just… a day or two." Raph coughed again.

"He got swamp fever," said Cameron softly. "He'll cough a lot. He'll need medicine. Ma used ta give us mint tea an' scold us fer swimmin' in da river, an' she'd make us take some nasty thick pink syrup."

"Sounds like amoxicillin," said Donatello thoughtfully. "Was it real sweet, like bubblegum?"

"Yeah, dat's da stuff."

"It's a simple bacterial infection then. Antibiotics and rest will clear it up." Donatello sounded relieved.

"His leg was infected, too," said Cameron, gaining courage from the purple-banded turtle's calm demeanor. "I cleaned it out fer him."

"Leave it, Don," grumbled Raphael as Donatello reached for the bandage. "Ya can open me up ag'in when we get back ta yer lab."

"Does it hurt, Raph?" Donatello asked clinically.

"Yeah, but it's better. Healin'," answered Raph quietly. "My arm hurts more."

"Well your arm is burnt," said Don. "You must've been close when he shot you."

"Yeah."

"I saw it," said Cameron softly. "Pa was askin' him where I was, an' Raphael jumped at him like some kinda nut."

Donatello glared at the boy, but Raphael chuckled. Don shook his head with a sigh and went back to cleaning the graze on Raph's shoulder. Leonardo appeared out of the darkness, startling Cameron. Donatello barely looked up, used to his brothers' silent entrances. "Is Casey ok, Leo?"

"Yeah. He's right behind me. But, guys? We have a problem."

"What's wrong?"

"Remember that cop?"

Donatello looked up, his eye ridges rising, and his face pale. "Yes…?"

"He must've woken up. And called in the license number. Don…" Leonardo swallowed hard. "The van's gone. It's been towed. We don't have a way to get home."


	21. Chapter 21 SingAlong

**A/N: A bored Mikey is an interesting cell-mate.  
I won't even give the "cliffy" warning. If you're not wearing your parachute by now, you're pretty much paste on the rocks below.**

* * *

_Chapter 21 -Sing Along-  
~~~_

"_Ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall… ninety-eight bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, ninety-seven bottles of beer on the wall…_" Michelangelo was singing in fine voice, if a little slurred, as if he'd had a few sips of the beverage himself.

April smiled grimly. She could hear the guards shuffling and grumbling outside but so far no one had come in to investigate Mikey's serenade. She struggled to reach the ropes around his hands, but she could barely feel her own fingers now. Still, she gritted her teeth and forced her stiff fingers to work at the knots at Mikey's wrists, loosening the ropes. His hands were like ice, even with the numbness crawling up through her arms, she could feel the cold of his skin as it brushed hers.

_If I can't loosen these ropes, he'll have permanent damage to his hands,_ she thought, struggling with the knots. _I've got to get them off… I've just got to._

April kept working, hardly noticing the pain in her own fingers. She felt something warm and wet trickle down, wetting the ropes, making them slippery and harder to grasp.

"_Eighty-seven bottles of beer on the wall…eighty-seven bottles of beer… take one down, pass it around… eighty-six bottles of beer on the wall!"_

_Bang!_ The door rattled. "Knock off that singin'!" yelled a disgruntled guard. Mikey continued, uncaring. _"Eighty-six bottles of beer on the wall…"_

April smiled grimly and kept working at the knots.

***

Splinter made his way slowly through the New York streets. The trench coat he wore was showing signs of age and his wide-brimmed hat would've brought snickers if he hadn't stuck to the silent shadows, keeping well out of sight of any prying, curious eyes. He searched, sniffing the various scents of the city, some pleasant, and others… not. He purposefully moved in the direction of the smell of salt water and fish- the harbor. He knew Hun's territory was near the docks. Perhaps he could learn something of his son's location if he scouted the gang's territory.

Splinter stopped in an alley to gather his thoughts. Hun's gang was unpredictable, which made them dangerous. They knew nothing of honor. He would have to be on his guard with them, against sneak attacks and surprises. On the other hand, they were not as well trained as the Foot clan, so defeating them in individual combat should prove simpler. Splinter was about to move out of the shadows when he heard the voice, high and whiny. He froze, listening, waiting for the speaker to pass so he might go on his way undetected.

"It _never shuts up_." A young man came into view. He was scowling, cracking his knuckles. "If Hun'd just let us whack it one…"

"Stoopid, Bishop won't pay as much if it dies."

Splinter's ears perked. _Agent Bishop? What does Hun have to do with our mortal foe?_

"Well I bet if he took the girl it wouldn't be so brave." The scowling boy's loose lips and slack jaw made him look even younger than the nineteen or so years Splinter guessed he was.

"Well, I sure ain't gonna be the one ta try it. He attacked Hun, tied up an' everything. He can keep the girl. At least she keeps him calm." A second boy, about the same age but stronger-looking and darker, moved into Splinter's line of sight. A plan began forming in his mind. The boys didn't notice the rat crouched in the shadow behind the dumpster as they made their way down the alley.

"What da ya think the others will do to Hun when they find out he sold their brother ta Bishop?"

"I dunno, but I don't plan to find out. I'm goin' to Jersey tomorrow, and stayin' there until all this blows over. I don't like this, getting into guns and stuff."

"You've always been a wuss, Jonathon."

"Shut up!" The blond boy whirled to face his friend. Splinter saw the telltale dragon tattoo snaking up his arm. The boy was pale with fury. "You don't know what they're _like_, Bart! You didn't have that _thing_ holding a freakin' _sword_ to your throat! It was gonna _kill_ me. It wanted to know where the dead one's body was; it said its name was Raphael. They have _names_, Bart. They're not just freaks."

Splinter's emotions ran hot then cold as he heard the boy's words… _The dead one's body… They have names… they're not just freaks…_ He waited patiently until the boys had passed his hiding place. Lifting a stone from the pavement, he took careful aim.

_Thunk_. The dark haired boy slumped to the ground, unconscious. Splinter moved stealthily into a shadow near the fire escape, allowing his coat and hat to hide his figure.

"Who… who's there?" The blond boy spun around, backing against the alley wall, staring wildly into the dim shadows.

"I mean you no harm, Jonathon." The gravelly voice spoke out of the dark, and the boy's face went several shades paler.

"Wh…wh… who are you?" he whimpered. "How do you know my name?"

"Where is Hun keeping the turtle and the woman?"

"I… I don't know what…" Jonathon Taylor trailed off as he heard a low growl coming out of the darkness. It reminded him of the turtle but the voice was different… older somehow. He shuddered.

_It let me live once… I won't get so lucky a second time. _Every instinct in him wanted to run, but he had the feeling he wouldn't get far.

"Where is he keeping the turtle and the woman?"

"In th… the warehouse," stammered the boy.

"Where?"

"Dock 23. The big brown building, there." The boy pointed with a shaking finger. "There are guards… Hun's gonna sell the turtle ta some guy."

"What guy?" The fury in the voice chilled Jonathon's blood.

"Bishop," he nearly whispered.

"Go, young Jonathan. Leave this city, and do not return," growled the voice.

"Y…y…yes, Sir," Jonathon managed. He didn't run this time. He didn't dare. He could hardly feel his feet as he walked out of the alley, into the dimming evening light. Without hesitation, and without so much as a glance over his shoulder, Jonathon Taylor made his way to the nearest bus station and bought a ticket to New Jersey.

***

"Mikey?"

"…Yeah, April?"

"Can you feel anything in your hands?"

"They hurt," he whispered.

"Good. That means the circulation's coming back. I can't get the ropes off but I've loosened them a little."

"Thanks, April." Michelangelo's voice was so tired, so dull, compared to his normal cheerful demeanor, April felt tears sting her eyes.

"Hang in there, Mikey. The guys will come."

"Of course they will. They're my bro's. An' we all love _you_, Ape. They'll come."

April snuggled closer to his plastron, offering what warmth she could with her body. Still, he felt cold against her.

"Well, isn't this touching."

April sat straight up, glaring. Hun leaned against the door frame, smirking. Michelangelo shifted behind April, trying to sit up.

"Be still, Mikey," she whispered. He ignored her, struggling until he could rest his shell against the wall. He glared at Hun, rage shining in those normally laughing blue eyes.

"What do you want, _freak_?" he grated in a voice that sounded nothing like the carefree turtle April knew and loved. She glanced at him in shock.

"I came to check on you lovebirds. Bishop'll be here soon," taunted Hun.

"What?" Every drop of blood drained from April's face. "Agent Bishop?"

"Yeah. He's real interested in your boyfriend," said Hun, smirking.

"You… you can't! He's a monster!" April was near tears, in spite of her resolve to remain strong for Mikey's sake.

"It's ok, April," said Michelangelo quietly behind her. "I'll be ok. The guys will come. They'll take this guy down."

"Mikey, I'm not letting you go," said April through her tears.

"_Mikey, I'm not letting you go_," taunted Hun. "Very sweet, Miss O'Neil, but I'm afraid you don't have a choice." He motioned to two of the gang members behind him, and they came into the room, smiling grimly. April squirmed and struggled but they lifted her up, away from Michelangelo, and carried her from the room. He sat, frozen and stoic, as she screamed his name, echoing down the hallway.

"Let her go, Hun," said Michelangelo. "Bishop won't pay for her."

"She's my insurance policy," said Hun coldly. "To keep your remaining brothers out of my hair. Don't worry, _freak_. I'll take good care of your girlfriend."

Hun's laughter bounced around the room, pounding Mikey's aching head, as the man walked out and slammed the door. Behind him, alone, Michelangelo slumped to the floor, and let his tears fall unseen.

***

Splinter approached the docks cautiously, sniffing the air as he went. Most of the warehouses were deserted but a few buzzed with activity. Most of the gang members he saw were young men, women and teens. All of them were marked with a hard look.

_I must locate my son and Miss O'Neil without being spotted myself,_ he thought. _I can fight any of these hooligans, but not all at once._

Using the lengthening shadows for cover, Splinter made his way toward the building where he had been told his son was being held. _I hope that boy was being honest. If he misled me, I may never find them before I am discovered. _Splinter stiffened, hearing a shriek.

"Michelangelo! _Michelangelo_!" The voice was ragged, high with terror.

_Miss O'Neil! _

Splinter ran.


	22. Chapter 22 Brothers

**A/N: Yeah, cliffy. Just... keep your parachute handy for the rest of the fic, ok? You're gonna need it. **

* * *

_Chapter 22 -Brothers-  
~~~_

"What do you mean, we don't have…" Donatello stared at his brother.

"The van's gone, Don. The police will return it to the rental company eventually."

"April will have to report it stolen as soon as possible, so she doesn't have problems with them. Didn't Mikey…"

"Don," Leonardo took a deep breath. "I should've told you before. I didn't want you to worry. Michelangelo isn't answering his shell-cell. Neither is April. The last time I called home, Splinter was going out to look for them."

"What? April and Mikey're missin'? Splinter… Splinter did _what_? He never goes topside!" Raphael tried to sit up, and was taken by another coughing fit.

"Sit still," snapped Donatello, his hand on his brother's plastron and his eyes on Leo's face.

"D… Donatello?" Cameron's voice spoke timidly into the tense silence.

"What?" Don's usually gentle voice held a snap, and Cameron flinched.

"I… never mind." The boy ducked his head, hunching his shoulders.

Raphael cleared his throat. "What is it, Kid?"

Blue eyes came up. The boy's gaze flickered toward Don's exasperated expression and Leo's carefully blank one. He swallowed hard. "I… I know some… some plants," he stammered. "I can help. With Raphael's cough."

"Ya have herbs dat can…" Raphael was wracked with another coughing fit. "Can make dis better?"

"Fer a little while," said Cameron. He met Raph's amber gaze. "It ain't a cure but it'll stop ya coughin' so much."

"Whatdaya t'ink, Donny?" asked Raphael.

"Well, anything that keeps you more comfortable until we can get the antibiotics is good," said Donatello thoughtfully. "And it seems we're stuck here for a while, at least until we can figure out what to do next."

A twig snapped loudly not far off. Leonardo's hands went to his katanas, Raphael sat up with a growl, and Donatello drew his bo. Cameron knelt at his brother's side, crouching as if he would defend him. Three turtles and one frightened boy stared into the darkness.

"Guys? Guys where are ya?" hissed a familiar voice. The three turtles relaxed. The boy stayed tense, strung tight as a violin string.

"Here, Case," growled Raph. A shadow moved in the dark, and Cameron's indrawn breath hissed through his teeth. The guy was _huge_. The boy instinctively crouched lower over his brother's body. If Billy hadn't lain there, helpless, he would've run. As it was, he nearly left his brother to his fate but even with Raphael's promise not to harm him, Cameron just couldn't abandon his brother.

"Who's da kid?" The man had a rough voice, piercing blue eyes and a bag of weapons strapped to his back, but what set Cameron's heart to pounding was the heavy leather belt he wore, so similar to Thomas'.

_He ain't gonna hit me. He ain't my Pa. Raphael promised…_ Cameron avoided the man's gaze. Billy chose that moment to stir and moan. His brother stroked his hair back away from his head as Billy's eyes flickered open.

"…Ma?"

"No, Billy, it's me," whispered Cameron, wiping at some stray moisture in his eyes. "Yer safe now."

"What… what happened?"

"Pa hit ya."

Billy closed his eyes and swore. Raphael chuckled and his eyes snapped open again in a hurry. The older boy struggled to sit up. Cameron put his hands on his shoulders.

"Billy, it's ok. Raphael promised they won't hurt ya. We're goin' ta da city wit' 'em…"

"What?" Billy squirmed, discovering the thongs keeping his wrists and ankles bound. "Why'd ya'll tie me up?"

"We didn't want you giving us any trouble," said Leonardo coolly. Billy met the turtle's dark gaze and froze, his face going pale.

His eyes widened as his stare moved from Leo to Donatello, glaring at him from Raphael's side. "Cameron, _run_."

"No, Billy, it's ok…"

"_Run_, Cameron! Don't let 'em get ya, too!"

"Billy, it's ok, they ain't gonna hurt us. Raphael _promised._"

Billy stared up into his younger brother's eyes. He struggled to sit up, still looking fearfully toward the turtles.

Leonardo held out his hands to show he wasn't armed. "Relax, Billy. We got you out of your house because we were afraid your father might still be violent when he woke up and because Cameron wouldn't leave without you. We're not going to hurt you. We just want to take our brother and go home."

"I'm goin' wit' ya!" said Cameron.

"Ya… ya tol' Cameron ya'd take 'im ta da city?" Billy swallowed hard, glancing around the circle again as if his reality had just taken a violent shift.

"Raphael promised," said Cameron.

Raph nodded. "I did," he said. "Da kid helped me, an' I said he could come wit' me back ta da city."

"Ya can't… Cameron, ya can't go wit' dem! Yer my _family_," Billy twisted around. "Ya can't just go off wit' a buncha strangers!"

"Ya did, Billy," said Cameron quietly. "Ya went off after Ma died an' left us. Why can't I?"

"Cameron…" Billy's eyes filled with tears. "I… I shouldn't o' left ya. I shouldn't… but ya can't! Ya just can't! I… I want ya ta come wit' me!"

Cameron gazed at his brother, his face a mixture of fear and longing. "I… I dunno, Billy."

"Cameron." Raphael leaned forward, gazing at the pair. The boys stared into his amber gaze, one calm, the other trembling. "Ya gotta go wit' yer bro, Kid. He's right. Yer family. Ya gotta stick tagether, ya know?"

"But Raphael, I wanna go wit' _you_," said Cameron. Billy made a choked noise, halfway to a sob.

Raphael shook his head. "Cameron, come 'ere." The boy got to his feet and approached the turtle cautiously.

Billy held out his hands as if he would draw his brother back. "Cameron, don't!" The boy ignored him, going to kneel next to Raphael.

Raph put his hand on his shoulder. "Kid. Yer bro needs ya," said Raph softly. Cameron's eyes filled with tears, but he blinked them away. "He got hurt defendin' ya from yer father. He's not always gonna be perfect," Raph's eyes flickered, not quite touching Leo's gaze. "But he's yer bro, an' he loves ya. He wants ta take care of ya. Give 'im a chance." He leaned closer. "An' if he ever hits ya, Cameron, he'll answer ta me."

Cameron laughed and shook his head. "Thanks, Raphael." He got up and went back to his former place. Billy avoided looking at his brother.

"Ok. I'll stay wit' ya, Billy. We'll go ta da city toget'er." He put his arm around his brother's shoulders awkwardly and glanced at Leonardo. "Can we untie him now? He ain't gonna do not'in. Right, Billy?" The boy shook his head. Leonardo drew his katana. Billy's head snapped up, and he scrambled backward with a cry.

"Hold still," snapped Leo. Billy froze, his wide blue eyes glued the sword in the turtle's hand. With two swipes, the bindings fell away. Billy examined his wrist, as if he couldn't quite believe his hands were still attached.

"What happened to your arm, Billy?" asked Donatello, trying to ease the tension.

"Yer brother broke it."

Raphael snorted. "Well ya were gonna shoot me."

"Sorry 'bout dat." Billy grinned a little sheepishly. "It was Jo's idea."

Leonardo's expression was icy, but Raphael laughed. "Yer all right, Kid." He coughed again.

"Cameron, can you come help me gather those herbs?" asked Donatello. He slipped his bo back into its holder and stood up. Cameron nodded. He got to his feet and led Donatello off through the trees.

Billy watched them go with trepidation but didn't try to stop his brother. He edged back from the turtles and Casey, settling with his back against a small tree. No one spoke for a long time. Finally, Billy cleared his throat.

"Th… thank ya. Fer helpin' my brother," he said softly.

Leonardo's dark gaze held his blue eyes. Finally the blue-banded turtle sighed. "We're brothers, too," he said, gesturing toward Raphael.

"Yeah," growled Raph. "Jus' take good care o' dat kid. He saved yer sorry hide." Billy's eyebrows rose. "He kept me from killin' ya," Raphael clarified. Billy paled, and nodded, swallowing.

"I will. I shouldn't o' left 'im. He's my brother. I shoulda stayed."

"You can't fix past mistakes, Billy," said Leonardo. Unconsciously, he rested his hand on Raphael's shoulder. "But you have to be able to learn from them, and move on."

"Ya got dat right, Fearless." Raphael grinned, patting his brother's hand.

"Speaking of past mistakes," Leonardo looked sternly at his brother, a hint of mischief glinting in his dark eyes. "I thought you weren't going to go out alone anymore?"

"Leo…"

***

Donatello examined the leaves Cameron handed him, crushing them between his fingers and sniffing them. A sharp, minty smell filled the air.

"Ya can boil 'em, but he can jus' chew 'em fer now," explained Cameron.

"Mint. It's wild spearmint," said Donatello.

The boy nodded. "Yeah."

"Sensei makes us mint tea sometimes, for an upset stomach," remarked Don.

"Raphael told me about yer Pa," said Cameron shyly. "He says he's a lot like our Ma. She was real smart 'bout all dis herbs an' stuff."

"She sounds like a very wise woman," said Donatello quietly, understanding the boy's need to remember his mother.

"My Pa killed her." The boy's voice was soft. "He knocked her down da stairs."

Donatello blinked. "I… I'm sorry."

"It were a long time ago. Hey, what's dat?"

Donatello crouched instinctively. "It's a police car. Looks like the cops are still hanging around."

"Dat ain't no local cop car."

"What? It's got to be. Look, it says 'sheriff' on the side…"

Cameron was shaking his head, scowling. "Dat _ain't _no sheriff's car," he insisted. "I know all da local cops. Dat ain't one o' dem."

"Stay here. I'll take a closer look."

Cameron caught Donatello's arm. The turtle yanked away, startled and the boy shrank back, half expecting a slap. Don's eye-ridges rose, but he didn't comment.

"What?" he asked.

"Don't go. Donatello, somethin' ain't right. Let's go back ta da others."

"Cameron, my brothers and I are trained ninja. We're fighters. Don't worry. It'll be fine."

The boy met those forbidding chocolate colored eyes and subsided. He stared toward the unfamiliar car worriedly and watched as Donatello slipped off into the night. Cameron crouched until his ankles were tingling and the backs of his calves were on fire.

"Well, well. Donatello. How nice to see you again." A man's voice cut through the night. He heard Donatello's startled cry and a soft _pop_. Fighting down the urge to run off through the woods at top speed toward home, Cameron edged forward until he could see two figures standing just on the edge of the "police" car's headlights. He stifled a gasp, seeing a crumpled form at their feet.

"Those redneck hicks might have lost Raphael but it seems the others are lurking about nearby. Probably trying to retrieve their brother. Let's get this one loaded up and move out."

"But Agent Bishop, surely we should attempt to capture the others?"

"With only two of us, and limited resources? No. Besides, I've a contact back in the city holding Michelangelo. That leaves Raphael and Leonardo. The Roberts' girl told me that Raphael is alive enough to give that brute of a father of hers a concussion and to murder her two brothers."

"Do you think he killed the boys?"

"Don't be a fool. Even Raphael isn't so bloodthirsty. They probably ran off."

"So Raphael is injured, this is Donatello, and Michelangelo is contained? That only leaves Leonardo." The man's voice sounded incredulous. "Sir, we won't have a better chance to retrieve all of them!"

"Don't be greedy, Philips," snapped the man. He turned, and Cameron caught the glint of sunglasses. "Leonardo is dangerous, especially when his brothers are threatened. And don't underestimate Raphael, even if he's injured. No. We'll take this one and go back to the city. We'll pick up Michelangelo, and head back to the lab. I don't need all four turtles. I can keep one alive, and dissect the other…"

Cameron controlled himself with an effort. He slipped backward through the brush, making as little sound as a mouse moving over the leaves. Once he'd put enough distance between himself and the men, he turned and ran for all he was worth.

He tore through the woods blind in his panic, and never saw the branch that connected with his forehead, resulting in instant unconsciousness.


	23. Chapter 23 Don

**A/N: Thomas Roberts gets what's coming to him.  
And Don... I'm so sorry, Don. Hold on to the happy ending. It'll come.  
Five chaps to go...**

**

* * *

  
**

_Chapter 23 -Don-  
~~~_

Casey twisted a piece of grass in his fingers, staring uneasily off into the dark. _Don's been gone too long. I shouldn't o' let him go off on his own like dat, wit' da kid…_

"Leo, do ya t'ink we oughta go after dem?" he asked finally.

Leonardo glanced at the human boy, still sitting stiffly with his back to the tree. _Would Cameron take off and leave Billy alone with us? He seemed worried about his safety… _Leo shook his head. "We'll wait a little longer."

"Leo," Raph stirred from his uneasy position. "I don't t'ink we should wait. Dis ain't like Donny. Mebbe ya should call his shell-cell."

Leonardo glanced at Raph. "I don't like to call him, with that cop out there," said Leo. "What if he hears Don's cell? We could get him captured. No. We'll wait a little bit longer. Don's smart, and careful. He won't do anything dumb."

"Well, I'm goin' lookin' fer 'em," said Casey, standing up.

Billy scrambled to his feet, too. Leonardo stood, watching the boy warily. His hand twitched toward his katana, but he didn't grasp the hilt. Not yet. "Where do you think you're going?" he snapped.

"I'm gonna look fer my brother," said Billy, glaring right back.

"No. You'll stay here where we can keep an eye on you."

"I'm goin'. He's my brother." Leo's hand hovered dangerously close to the handle protruding above his shell.

Casey cleared his throat. "Leo, wait. Why don't I take da kid wit' me? He knows da territory 'round here. Mebbe he can help find 'em quicker."

"I'm comin' too. I've had enough sittin' around here," said Raphael. He struggled to his feet. "Let's go." He took two steps before swaying.

"We'll all go," said Leonardo, coming to a decision. "No more wandering off alone. We'll stay together. If you can, Raph?" He glanced down at his red-banded brother.

Leonardo caught his arm. "Lean on me."

Raphael grunted but amazingly he allowed his brother to take some of his weight. The odd little group made their way out into the darkness of the trees, Casey's boots crunching in the leaf litter making the only sound.

***

Cameron groaned. His head hurt, and he ached all over. _What'd I do dis time? Did Pa use da belt? I wonder if he broke anyt'ing?_ Slowly, cautiously, he took gentle inventory of his own bones, moving first his fingers and toes, then more carefully, his wrists, ankles, knees and shoulders. Satisfied that no bones were broken, he took a deep breath, and tried to sit up. The world tilted and whirled, and Cameron retched.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he managed to sit up, this time without losing any more of the contents of his stomach. _Musta hit my head_, he thought hazily. His hand strayed to his forehead, and he winced when he discovered the lump. _Oh, man. That's gonna show. No school fer me_. He sighed. School represented a few hours a day of peace; respite from his family's constant tension.

He passed his hand over his face. He noticed a faint smell on his fingers, and held them to his nose, sniffing. _Mint? Why've I got mint on my fingers? Was I pickin'… OH! Donatello! Oh no… dat guy took Donatello! Raphael's gonna be so mad! I let dat guy take his brother! I gotta find him… gotta tell 'em. Mebbe they can get him back._

Cameron forced himself to his feet, holding on to the tree for balance. He took a couple staggering steps forward before strong hands caught his shoulders, spinning him around. He threw up his hands with a cry. A powerful clout caught him in the side of the head, sending him sprawling.

"You fool boy," shouted Thomas Roberts. "I can't believe ya'd do dis ta yer own flesh an' blood!"

"Pa, I didn't do anyt'ing!" cried Cameron, scrambling backward. He caught a glimpse of his father's flushed face in the pre-dawn light. Thomas' eyes glittered with cold rage. "It's bad enough ya run off from yer own family, an' ya leave yer sister locked up in her room, but ya let that fool beast go, an' now it's on the loose, an' da scientist guy ain't gonna pay us not'in. Ya robbed yer own family, Cameron! How could ya do such a t'ing? I raised ya better dan ta be a thief, Boy." Thomas reached for his buckle, unfastening the belt and pulling it out with a familiar, terrible whoosh. Cameron managed to get his feet under him.

"I didn't let him go, Pa, I swear," he quavered. "He got loose on his own…"

"Don't you lie to me, Boy!" shouted Roberts, his eyes flashing with rage. He lunged forward, grabbing Cameron's arm before he could dart out of the way. He lifted the belt high. "I know ya were soft on dat critter. Ya let it go! I'll teach ya ta lie ter yer Pa!"

The belt whistled… and there was a crack and a cry of pain. Cameron jerked away from his father's suddenly loosened grip and turned to stare, wide-eyed. Billy stood there, holding his father's arm in his good hand, bending it back, forcing Thomas to drop the belt to the ground.

"Ya ain't gonna hit him no more," snarled Billy. He released Thomas' arm. The man stood stunned for a second before swinging his fist toward his oldest boy's cheek. Billy ducked, dodging the blow. His own fist came around in an arc, and caught Thomas squarely in the jaw. Cameron could've sworn he felt the ground shake as Thomas Roberts landed flat on his back with an almighty crash.

In an instant, Cameron was wrapped around his brother's waist, his sobs soaking Billy's shirt. Billy stood for a moment, stunned, before wrapping his good arm around his brother's shoulders. "It's ok, Cameron. He ain't gonna hit ya no more. He ain't gonna hit any o' us no more, I promise."

"He… he was gonna kill me dis time, Billy. He… he was crazy… he thought I let Rapheal go, an' he was gonna kill me…"

"I know, Cameron. It's ok now. I won't let 'im hurt ya no more." Billy noticed vaguely that he'd split the skin across his knuckles. Billy heard a sound, and turned. Slowly, from behind the trees, two turtles, and a tall man emerged. Raphael was watching them, his eye-ridges rising, an unreadable expression in his amber eyes. Billy swallowed hard, wondering what the turtles must think of his family now. Raphael stood, leaning against a tree, watching the brothers for a long moment. His eyes glittered maniacally in the early-morning light, and a grin split his face.

"Way ta go, Kid," he said, giving Billy a smile. "Ya stood up ta yer old man. You an' Cameron, yer gonna be all right."

***

Donatello shifted uncomfortably. _Where am I?_ Wherever it was, it was dark, cool, and… metallic? _Oh, shell. This can't be good. Waking up in the back of a truck? It never means anything good. Unless it's the Battle Shell and I'm surrounded by brothers…He tried opening his eyes, only to be met with pitch-blackness. Nope. Man, as much as I hate being injured in battle, I'd give anything to be waking up to nice, normal chaos right about now._

Don swore mentally. The last thing he'd remembered, he was walking in the woods. He closed his eyes, concentrating. _We were rescuing Raph. He has that cough… from swimming in the river! That's it! I was going with Cameron to gather mint for Raphael, to ease his cough. So how did I end up here? I was walking with Cameron…_

Don's eyes narrowed. He remembered the sheriff's car… The car Cameron said didn't belong to the local cops. _I went to investigate. I remember now… There were two men, in suits. Not sheriff uniforms. There was no way they heard me coming, but the short one had a gun in his hand…_ Don shivered, touching his shoulder unconsciously. His fingers found a small, sore bump. He pressed on it lightly, and hissed through his teeth as the pain flared. _A tranq pistol, he thought bitterly. They shot me with a dart. The second man… there was something familiar about him…_Donatello wracked his hazy brain, but no more information came. He rolled over to his plastron, pushing himself up with a groan. He stayed on his hands and knees for a long moment, feeling the vibrations coming through the floor, and the sensation of movement.

_Must be traveling the highway. It's too smooth to be a secondary road, he thought vaguely. I wonder how long I was out? I hope I don't get too far before the guys know I'm missing. Of course, if Cameron went back alone, they'll figure out something's wrong pretty quickly. I just hope the guys can find me in time… I wonder who those guys were… who could've snatched me. It was almost as if they were waiting for us._ Slowly, he leaned back, resting on his knees, and waited for the whirling dizziness to subside. His head was beginning to clear. He reached behind him, but of course his bo was gone. As were his leather belt and knee and elbow pads. He swore silently and bitterly.

_Caught like some hatchling, and stuck in a rolling cage. How'm I gonna get out of this? It's just like Raph, stuck in a truck and driven away… Could Cameron have set us up? Could he be working with his family to re-capture Raph, and get us in the bargain? I hope not. Raphael seems attached to the kid. He'll be furious if it turns out he's betrayed us._

Donatello managed to get to his feet. He staggered a bit, and nearly fell again, but his hands came up against a satiny-smooth wall, only a few feet in front of him. Using the wall as support, he felt his way around the smooth interior, a frown growing deeper on his face. The box he was contained in was perhaps six feet square. Reaching up, he found he could easily feel the "ceiling".

_What is this? It doesn't feel like a normal truck. The walls are too smooth… there're no nuts or bolt-heads. Even the corners are rounded, like some sort of… containment unit. I can't find a latch or a seam or anything to give a clue to how it opens. What is this? Where am I? And more importantly, how the shell am I going to get out of here?_


	24. Chapter 24 Don't Give Up

**A/N: Oh, Mikey. I'm sorry, Dude.**

**

* * *

**_Chapter 24 -Don't Give Up-  
~~~_

Splinter plowed through the first five guards as if they were dandelion fluff, and barely paused for breath as he kicked, punched and mowed his way through ten more. Soon the warehouse was swarming with confused, shouting teenagers. Splinter darted behind a stack of crates, avoiding the main surge of gang members.

"Where'd it go?"

"What _was_ dat thing?"

"Come on, it went _dis_ way!"

Splinter slipped through the shadows, away from the chaos. He sniffed. Dozens of odors assaulted his delicate nose, but there was one… One that was familiar.

***

"_Donny, it stinks in 'ere. Whatcha doin'?" _ _Raphael's voice was as gruff as ever. _

"_I'm working on something, Raph."_

"_Whatcha workin' on, Brainiac? Yer stinkin' up da whole Lair."_

"_How could I possibly stink up the _sewers_, Raph?"_

"_Whatev, Don. Yer lab smells like a soap factory."_

"_It smells better than _your_ room!"_

"_What was dat?" _

_Splinter's ears had perked at the growl in Raphael's voice. His temper had been quicker even than usual lately, and Splinter heard the older turtle's looking-for-a-fight tone._

"_What are you creating, my son?" he asked mildly. As he'd hoped, his presence took some of the wind out of Raphael's sails. The red-banded turtle huffed and walked to the dojo, where the sounds of his fists abusing a well-worn punching bag could soon be heard. Donatello looked up at Splinter, but instead of the usual spark of quiet amusement and gratitude Splinter was used to, he looked… embarrassed. Almost apprehensive._

"_It's… kind of a secret, Sensei," Donatello had stammered._

"_A secret you must keep from your father?" Splinter was concerned. What was Donatello hiding? Come to think of it, he'd spent an awful lot of time in his lab lately with the door closed._

"_Well…" Donatello shifted, uncomfortable under Splinter's gaze. The old rat said nothing. He simply waited. Donatello would tell him, or not. It was his choice. _

_Finally the turtle sighed. "I'm making a present. For April. For her birthday," he said quietly. "I don't want Raph and the others to know."_

"_It is considerate to present your friend with a gift, Donatello," said Splinter. "Why should your brothers not know of your intentions?"_

"_They… won't understand." Donatello's dark eyes were glued to his workbench. "They… they'll make fun of me."_

_Splinter nodded with sudden understanding. Had it been so long since he was young, that he'd forgotten what it was like to wish to give a gift to a pretty girl? "You may wish to add a touch of lavender, my son," he suggested gently. _

_Donatello's eyes lit with gratitude and relief. "Thank you, Sensei." _

_***_

April had been thrilled with the customized perfume Donatello shyly presented to her, and Splinter had noticed that it harmonized perfectly with her natural scent. His son had chosen well. Now, Splinter intentionally blocked out all other odors, and zeroed in on the faint trace of flowery aroma. The natural oils Donatello used made it much easier to track the perfume in the confusing array of odors. Splinter paused outside a doorway, hearing voices within.

"Yer boyfriend ain't here now, Miss O'Neil. This is a good time for us to get to know one another better."

"Get away from me, you jerk!"

"Come on, girl, don't be so cold…"

A muffled scream.

_April!_

Splinter's flying kick snapped the pins in the door's hinge and sent it crashing into the wall. It hung crazily on the remaining broken hinge. Splinter's black eyes burned into the man standing over April. He stared, his mouth open wide with shock, revealing a row of uneven yellow teeth. Splinter crouched, ready to attack. The man backed away hastily.

"She's all yours, man."

Splinter advanced into the room with a growl, and the man shrieked and darted past him toward the door. The rat's punch caught him in the chest, and he staggered back, slumping to the floor.

"April, are you all right?" Splinter knelt next to the trembling girl.

"Splinter! No, leave me. You've got to get Michelangelo… Hun took him away! He's going to sell him to Bishop! Please, Splinter, go!" April was sobbing as he drew a small knife from his belt and sawed through the ropes binding her ankles. "Leave me! Go get Mikey…"

"April, I cannot leave you here," said Splinter firmly. "Come." He took her arm and hauled her gently to her feet. She swayed, barely able to stand. "You must get up and walk." Splinter said firmly. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she managed to stay on her feet. Splinter cut the ropes binding her wrists, wincing when he saw her fingertips, ragged, her nails broken and torn.

_What have they done to you, April?_ he wondered, but this was no time for questions. Already the confused buzzing had begun to settle into more orderly shouts and cries. They had little time before his presence was discovered. "Come, April. We must leave this place."

"But Splinter, Mikey…"

"I will return for Michelangelo," said Splinter quietly. "For now, you must come with me." April nodded, holding Splinter's robe with one hand. He led her toward the door, slowly, too slowly. She hobbled as quickly as she could on her swollen, painful ankles. With a sigh, he turned to face her. "Forgive me, April, but I fear I must carry you."

"What? You can't…" But he'd already scooped her up. She wasn't a lightweight, but Splinter was no ordinary being, either. He hurried down the corridor, his burden barely slowing him down.

_Michelangelo, my son, I will return for you. Do not despair. I will come back._

_***_

Mikey groaned. _What _is_ this thing? And how come I can't see anything? Am I blind? No! I can't be._ He blinked his eyes rapidly. _No… I saw light until Hun closed the door. I saw it, I did. It's just that when the door closed, it… cut… off…all…the…light. _Michelangelo swallowed hard. _I don't like the dark. _

"Ya hear that, Hun? I don't like it in here. So come let me out now, ok? ...Please?" The sound echoed eerily around him. _Yeah, I didn't think that would work._

Cautiously, he sat up, feeling around with his feet. He groaned softly as pain spiked through his throbbing fingers. At least Hun hadn't noticed that April loosened the ropes around his wrists. He could feel his hands again. He felt around behind him, but all he found was smooth, unyielding metal. He shifted over, carefully finding the wall, and leaned back, resting his shell against it. His arm and ribs hurt, and his face ached where Hun's fist had made contact. He closed his eyes, gratitude for the momentary peace warring with fear.

_I hope April's ok,_ he thought without much hope. _The guys will be back soon._ He smiled, forcing himself to believe it. _They'll get her back. She'll be ok. And they'll come for me, too. I know they will. They'll come. They always do._

A noise from outside startled him out of his thoughts. Voices and footsteps approached. _Oh no! Oh shell, is that… No! He can't be here already! No… no… Ok, Mikey, you can't let him see you're scared. You're a ninja. Ninja's ain't scared of nothing. Except maybe brain-munching zombies. And aliens, the kind with probes. Yeah, those guys are mondo creepy. And giant spiders. I could see why Raph's scared of spiders when we watched that movie…_

The metal room shifted, and Mikey let out an "eep" in spite of himself. _What's goin' on? Is it an earthquake? What kinda crazy room is this, anyway?_

"Come on, we don't have all day. Let's get this thing loaded on the truck."

"What is it, anyway? Looks like a big crate."

"Bishop calls it a 'containment unit'. It's a big _fancy_ crate."

Coarse laughter, and the room moved again, tipping Mikey over. This time he landed on his uninjured shoulder, gasping as the jolt sent vibrations jarring through his aching and torn muscles.

_Oh shell, it's one o' those boxes Bishop uses. How'm I gonna get out of here? Guys, hurry! I don't want to get cut up into turtle sushi!_ Tears soaked Mikey's mask. _I want to see Raph again! I never got to tell him he's a great big brother…Never got to tell Donny 'thanks' for all the times he fixed my skateboard, Leo, I never told ya how much I appreciate all the times ya pulled Raph off me when he was gonna pound my shell. And Splinter… _Tears filled Mikey's eyes. _Splinter…_

_Michelangelo._

Mikey jumped. _I'm losin' it. I coulda sworn I heard Splinter's voice…_

_Michelangelo, my son._

_Splinter?_

_Where are you?_ The voice was urgent, searching.

_I… I'm in a box._ The crate jolted, and he heard grunts, shouts and a bang. The thing shuddered around him. Chains clinked and muffled clangs echoed through, making Mikey's head ache. Then, almost worse, an engine.

_Splinter! Help! I think they're gonna take me away!_

_Michelangelo, remain calm. Speak to me. Where are you?_

_I… I'm in a… a box, Sensei. And I think they just put me on a truck. I… I'm sorry. I don't know where I am. Tell April, and the guys… Splinter, I'm sorry. _

Splinter's eyes snapped open as the connection broke. _Michelangelo!_ But his youngest son had deliberately left the spiritual plane. _No!_ Splinter shook his head. His son had given in to despair. He was too beaten, too battered, too afraid, to cling to the thin hope Splinter could offer through the link. Michelangelo no longer believed he would be rescued. He'd given up.


	25. Chapter 25 Ambush

**A/N: FINALLY they're on their way. Don't worry, Juan hasn't fallen off the face of the planet. He'll show up later on. And Mikey will be ok. Happy endings, remember?  
**

* * *

_Chapter 25 -Ambush-  
~~~_

"Where's Donny?" Leonardo's dark eyes had been searching the trees. Now they landed squarely on Cameron. "You were together. Cameron, what happened? Did your father…" Leo took a step toward the prone form of Thomas Roberts, his hand stretching toward his katana automatically.

"No… No, Pa didn't… Leo, dem guys, they took Donatello!" Cameron's blue eyes went wide as he remembered. "We were walkin' an' pickin' da mint, an' we saw da cop car, but it ain't a cop car." He looked up at Billy. "Ya know how da sheriff's department got all dem new cars last year? Billy dis one _said_ "sheriff" on it, but it weren't no Ford. It weren't no sheriff's car!"

"What do you mean, Cameron? Did the police get Don?" Leonardo's voice was sharp with alarm.

"They weren't no cops," said Cameron, shaking his head vigorously. Leo's furious glare raked the boy, and he flinched, pressing closer to his brother. "They had suits. An' they… shot him. It was some kinda dart thing. He fell down an' they were talkin' about ya'll. They said somebody called… Michelangelo… is contained in the city. An' that yer dangerous when yer mad. Raphael, too. They were goin' back ta da city ta pick up da other one. He said…" Cameron swallowed hard, avoiding Leonardo's eyes. "He said he could keep one alive and dissect da other. What's 'dissect', Billy?"

Billy was pale. "Like… like da frog Jo cut up in school, Cameron. They're gonna…" The look in Raphael's eyes stopped his voice.

"We've gotta get 'im, Leo," growled Raph, drawing his sais. "An' if somebody's got Mike…"

"Mike was home, with Splinter. I talked to Splinter…" Leonardo shook his head.

"But he went lookin' fer April, Leo," said Raphael. "Somebody's huntin' us." Leonardo swore.

"What're we gonna do now?" asked Casey. He shifted from one foot to the other. "Who would take Don? Who knew you were here?"

"_Bishop_," growled Raphael. "Billy, didn't ya say yer sister was gonna sell me ta Agent Bishop?"

Billy swallowed hard, and nodded. "Yeah. Johanna had it all lined up. Dis guy was comin' down from da city…"

"Bishop? You were going to sell my brother to Agent _Bishop_?" Leonardo's eyes glittered black in the pre-dawn.

"It… it was Johanna's idea," stammered Billy.

"Leo." The gruff voice was quiet. "Gettin' mad at dem ain't gonna bring Donny back. We gotta t'ink of a plan."

Leonardo turned to glare at Raphael. He took in the glint of irony in the amber gaze, and almost smiled. Almost. "How are we going to get back to the city? Where are we going to get another vehicle? Bishop's men must've had our van towed."

"What about Juan's truck?" Cameron spoke up. "Isn't it still at our place?"

"Yeah. Juan was sleepin' fer a while 'fore we went back ta da city," said Billy slowly. "It might still be at da house. I can get him ta drive us back ta da city!"

"Let's go," said Leonardo grimly. "We've got to get that truck."

"I'll go on ahead," said Casey. "In case da kid's gettin' ready ta leave 'r somet'in."

"He wouldn't leave wit'out me," said Billy. "We were gonna go back together."

"You don't think he'd just take off, after all this trouble with your family, Billy?" Leonardo glanced at the boy.

Billy shrugged. "I don't t'ink so," he said. "He knows I gotta get back too. But he won't wait aroun' forever. We gotta get back."

"Let's go. Raph, are you gonna be able to make it?" Leonardo looked at his brother with concern.

"Yeah, 'm fine, Leo." Raphael started walking, determined, but Leo noticed his steps were uncertain, and his eyes were clouding over with pain and fatigue. Raph began to sway, and Leonardo caught his brother before he could crash to the ground.

"Raph! Raph stay with me, bro! Casey, li'l help here?"

Casey grabbed Raphael's other arm, slinging it around his own waist. They struggled forward like three drunken lovers, but with their support, Raphael was able to walk.

The sun was nearly up when they approached the Roberts' home. Nothing stirred in the little cabin. Cameron moved forward cautiously, peering at the windows. He gasped, pointing. "Look," he whispered. Leonardo stared. He saw the smallest movement in the upstairs window, where Cameron was pointing.

"Johanna," whispered Cameron.

"Da ya think she'll try and stop us?" Raphael growled, his eyes narrowing.

"Nah. She's just watchin' fer Pa ta come home," replied Billy but his eyes were on the window and his face was pale. "Still, I don't t'ink it'd be a good idea ta let her see you. I'll go get da van."

"Billy, don't go out there," said Cameron urgently. "She's crazy."

"She ain't gonna do not'in ta me. She's our _sister_, insisted Billy. He stepped boldly out of the trees. The roar of a shotgun blended with Cameron's shriek. They heard high, cackling laughter from inside the house.

"That'll learn ya, Billy Roberts!" Johanna shrieked. "That'll learn ya!"

Leonardo grabbed Cameron's arm as he lunged forward. "Lemme go! Lemme go!" screamed Cameron. "My brother!"

"Hold him, Casey," said Leo, slinging the struggling boy into Casey's arms. The man wrapped his arms around Cameron, pinning him against his chest. The boy struggled wildly but Casey held him. Leonardo dropped to the ground and crawled through the brush to the edge of the undergrowth. Billy laid, face down, a few feet away.

Leonardo looked toward the house, his eyes narrowing behind his blue mask. He saw no movement at the window. Cautiously, he crawled forward, reaching…

"Leo, what the shell are you doin'?" hissed Raphael.

"He's alive," Leo shot back over his shoulder. He grasped the boy's ankle, and drew him back, into the cover of the brush. The gun was silent.

"Billy! Billy!" Cameron's pitiful cries echoed through the trees.

"It's ok. He's breathing," said Leonardo. "I think it was just a warning shot." He rolled the boy over, and sucked in a sharp breath. Red blossomed from his shoulder. Billy groaned.

"Casey, give me your shirt," said Leo.

"What?"

"Your shirt. I need something to put pressure on this wound."

"Aw, man…" But the man took his stained tank top off and passed it over. Leonardo wadded it up and pressed it against the boy's shoulder. Billy moaned again.

"Casey, come here. You've got to hold this," instructed Leo. "I'll go in and take care of the girl." He stood up.

"Wait! Whataya gonna do ta my sister?" asked Cameron, his blue eyes stretched wide.

"Cameron, she shot your brother. She tried to sell _my_ brother to a mad man. I'm going to do what I have to, to get us out of here," said Leonardo. Seeing the look in the boy's eyes, his grim expression softened. "Cameron, I never kill unless it's a last resort. I'll try not to hurt her. But I have to get that gun away from her."

"O… ok. I understand," said Cameron softly.

Leonardo nodded, and disappeared into the trees. Under Casey's firm hands, Billy shifted. His eyes flickered open, and he swore. "What… happened?"

"Yer sister shot ya," said Casey gruffly. "Leo's gone ta deal wit' her. Now hold still."

"No… Johanna…" Billy struggled to sit up. Casey held the pressure on his shoulder, but the boy squirmed, trying to escape.

"Lay still, kid!" snapped Casey. Movement to his right made Casey look up.

Raphael came around to the boy's other side, and knelt, using his good arm to pin Billy down. The boy shook his head from side to side, trying to escape.

Cameron knelt behind Raphael, taking Billy's hand in his own. "Billy, it's ok. They're tryin' ta help ya. Ya gotta lay still. Jo shot ya, but yer gonna be ok." he said softly. His brother's voice seemed to have a soothing effect.

"Cameron…"

"Yeah?"

"Don't… leave me…"

"I'm right here."

"Case, how's da bleedin'?" asked Raphael.

Casey carefully pulled the shirt back slightly. The movement made the boy gasp and go pale. Casey shook his head. "Still bleedin' but not as bad," he said.

"We're gonna hafta fix it so he can be moved," said Raphael. "We got anyt'ing ta tie it off wit'?

"Here," said Cameron. He pulled off the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing and handed it to Casey. The man's eyes widened for an instant when he saw the bruises and scars marking the boy's arms. Cameron ducked his head.

"T'anks, Kid," said Casey gruffly. He took the shirt and wrapped it tightly around Billy's shoulder, tying the sleeves to keep the makeshift bandage in place.

Rustling from the left announced Leonardo's return. He was sheathing his katana as he came up. Cameron looked up, a fearful question in his eyes. Leonardo met his gaze steadily. "It's ok, Cameron. She never heard me coming. I didn't hurt her but she won't be shooting at us anymore." Cameron swallowed hard, wanting to believe the blue-banded turtle.

"What about da other kid?" asked Raphael.

"There's no sign of him," said Leonardo. "But the truck is here. We need to get everyone loaded up and get out of here. We don't have much time if we're going to save Don and Mikey."

"Let's go," said Casey. He stood up. "Can ya walk, Kid?" he asked Billy. Billy nodded, and tried to sit up. Leonardo reached down and took his uninjured arm, hauling him to his feet. Billy yelped but managed to stand, swaying.

"Casey, help him. I've got Raph," said Leonardo shortly.

"I… I'll get some blankets an' stuff from da house," said Cameron quickly. He dashed off across the yard before anyone could stop him. Raph met Leo's eyes.

Leonardo shrugged. "Come on," he said, helping his brother to his feet. The foursome made their way over to the truck. Billy and Raphael were placed gently in the back seat, leaving room for Cameron. Leo sat in the front passenger seat. Casey slid in behind the wheel. Cameron dashed out of the house carrying a couple tattered blankets, a quilt... and Raphael's sais. He held them out to Leo.

"Get in, Kid," said Leonardo, taking his brother's weapons from him gently. Cameron nodded, and climbed into the back of the truck. He spread the blankets over Raphael and Billy.

"Jo?" Billy whispered. He looked at Cameron, his blue eyes wide.

"She's ok," Cameron told him softly. "Knocked out an' tied up, but she's breathin'. He didn't."

Billy nodded. "Hope he hit 'er hard," he said with a grimace. Cameron grinned.

Casey fiddled with the wires under the dashboard, and in a few seconds, the engine roared to life. They were on their way.


	26. Chapter 26 Rat & Dragons

**A/N: Hmm. They really should have checked the back of that truck. I suppose they're a bit distracted at the moment tho.**

**Only two chapters to go before the happy ending.**

**

* * *

**_Chapter 26 -Rat and Dragons-  
~~~_

Splinter moved silent and invisible through the shadows, approaching the warehouse he'd just escaped. April was safely tucked into a doorway, a few blocks away, awaiting his return. He could not leave this place without finding out where Michelangelo had been taken. Splinter was worried about leaving April alone, weak and injured as she was but he needed to gather information, in order to rescue his youngest son.

He slipped into the warehouse through a side door. Chaos still reigned inside. Hoarse shouts rang out, and gang members darted here and there, rather like a disturbed anthill. Splinter noticed that most of the confusion was taking place down the hallway where he'd found April. He shrank into the shadows behind a row of bleachers on one wall, and listened.

"Sullivan really did it this time. Hun's gonna skin 'im." The young woman speaking smirked. "Serves him right. He shouldn'ta brought that O'Neil woman here."

"At least they managed to pack up the turtle," remarked a boy, about sixteen. Splinter could just see him through the space between the benches where he crouched. The boy had green hair, swept up into an impressive row of spikes studding the top of his head. "I don't know why that scientist guy just didn't come here to pick it up…"

"Because o' what happened, meat-head. The others tried to save it. Duh. Hun took it down to the docks. The guy's meetin' him there."

"So when's this next shipment comin' in?" Spike-Hair was trying to sound casual, but Splinter noticed his voice and hands shook slightly as he asked the question.

"Later. That's why Hun's so worked up about losing that woman. If the turtles interfere…" said the girl, lowering her voice.

"They won't. They'll be too busy chasin' aroun' after the other one." Spike-Hair laughed. "I'd like ta see their faces when they get here an' find out the other one's already gone."

"Not me." For the first time the girl sounded uncertain, much younger than the persona she was putting on. "I've seen 'em fight. I don't wanna be here when they come lookin' for that one."

_There is hope for you yet, young one_, thought Splinter, slipping away unnoticed. _So, Hun has taken my son to the docks. Do not despair, Michelangelo. Your brothers and I are coming for you._ He was close, so close, to escaping the warehouse a second time. Fate was having none of it. As Splinter moved behind some crates, an irritating little buzz sounded at his waist. He tried to ignore it, but suddenly he was aware of shouting, very close to him, and three teenagers crowded into the space between the crates and the door, blocking his intended escape route.

With a growl, Splinter leapt to the top of the first crate, gaining the advantage of height. One of the teenagers smiled, swinging a chain. Splinter scrambled to the top of another crate, cursing his stiff leg. Swiftly he dashed over the tops of the crates, searching wildly for an exit, any exit. The buzzing went on, unheeded, at his waist. Gang members were swarming around now, some were climbing up onto the crates in pursuit of the elderly rat.

Splinter made a desperate leap, over the heads of the crowd. He landed on his feet, but his leg buckled under him, and he rolled, just avoiding a baseball bat intended for his skull. He swung his walking stick, dropping four teenagers with stinging blows to sensitive spots on their legs and sides. Five more took their place, crowding, menacing. Splinter backed up, his black eyes flashing. He was cornered and badly outnumbered.

_I am sorry, my sons. I fear we may meet again in the next plane of existence._ He prepared himself to fight.

***

Donatello felt the truck slowing down. Desperately, he threw himself against the side of the container. It was no use. He bounced off, the echoing _clang_ ringing in his ears. _Shell… How'm I going to get out of this? How will the guys find me? We've been traveling about six hours… we've got to be getting close to the city. _

The truck rolled to a stop. Faintly, he heard truck doors slamming, and footsteps approached. Don tensed, preparing himself to spring at… wherever the opening turned out to be, but nothing changed. Out of sheer frustration, he stood up and banged his shell against the side of the container a few times. A knock came from outside, as if someone banged their fist against the unit.

"Knock it off in there."

Donatello raised his fists and beat against the side of the container. "Let me _out_ of here!" he screamed. Frustration and despair threatened to overwhelm him. "Let me out!" he shouted again, furious. He rained blows on the smooth surface. There was a hissing noise, and Don squinted as a crack of light appeared along one side of the crate.

A shadow blocked the light, a figure taking shape as the sliver of light widened. Donatello stared, squinting, and crouched, preparing to attack. There was a soft _pop_, and he felt a stinging pain in his arm. Instinctively, he slapped at the spot, and his fingers found a small silver cylinder, the tip buried deep in his skin. He brushed it aside, but already the world was tilting, shifting under his feet. In his last seconds of consciousness, he heard a terrifyingly familiar laugh. "We can't have you injuring yourself before we get to the lab, now can we?" said a voice.

_Oh shell. Bishop!_ was the last thought to cross Donatello's mind before the darkness claimed him.

***

"Sensei's not answering his phone," said Leonardo worriedly. "I haven't been able to get a hold of him since he went out to look for April and Mikey."

"Well, what about dat tracker thing Donny put on the phones?" asked Raphael. Leonardo nodded. "I should be able to trace it… which button do I push to turn that on?"

Raphael reached over his shoulder. "Dat one."

The tiny screen lit up, and a flashing dot appeared on the map. "Hey," said Raphael. "Ain't dat…"

"Yeah, Raph. The warehouse district. Purple Dragon territory."

"Ah, shell," grumbled Raph.

"Is Splinter in trouble?"

"He might be, Casey," replied Leo, meeting the man's glance with a worried gaze. "You'd better head that way. Sorry, Raph, Billy, you guys are gonna have to wait for medical attention. We've got to find Splinter."

"Do whatcha gotta, Leo," said Raphael firmly.

"What about Billy?" asked Cameron.

"Splinter's our father," said Raphael softly. "Cameron, I know yer worried 'bout yer brother, but we gotta do dis, ok? It won't take long."

"Yeah, we gotta bust a few heads," said Casey, grinning. "But den we'll get yer bro to a hospital, ok?'

"No hospital," moaned Billy. "Can't… can't pay da bill."

"We'll figure something out," said Leonardo. "Right now, we've got to get to Splinter."

***

Splinter was tiring. The gang members had tried attacking singly, but after he took the first ten down, they wised up and started working as a group. His swinging kick caught one teenager squarely in the chest, while he dodged a swinging chain from another. He barely touched the floor before a baseball bat whistled, and he was forced to dive aside to avoid having his leg smashed. He was fighting with fury, but not much hope now. One lucky strike, and he knew he'd go down.

A grinning boy threw a length of pipe, nearly catching the rat in the ribs. Splinter dodged aside, a growl escaping him. He lashed out, catching another boy on the chin with the end of his solid walking stick. The gang member dropped like a sack of potatoes, and lay still. A girl lunged forward with a cry. Splinter jumped, launching himself off her back to land another swinging kick to a gang member's shoulder. He landed lightly, spinning to face the row of leering teenagers who surrounded him.

"I do not wish to fight you!" he shouted. Derisive laughter was his only answer. Whether or not _he _wished to fight, it was clear that they _did_.

Busy dodging a double attack from a knife and pipe from the front, Splinter never saw the small club coming from behind. It crashed into the back of his skull, stunning him. He staggered forward, swaying. A gang member kicked, catching him in the chest. Splinter landed flat on his back, winded. A roaring filled his ears…

"Goongala!"

_Strange, that in my final moments, I should hear the war-cry of my sons' ally, Casey Jones. _

As if Moses himself had held out his staff, the gang members parted. Splinter heard shouting, and the clang of metal, as if from far away. His vision darkened but he fought the dizziness that threatened to consume him. Hands touched him, and he growled, moving weakly in an effort to defend himself.

"Come on, Sir, ya've gotta get up. Ya've gotta get outta here."

Splinter forced his eyes open. A boy swam into view, no more than twelve years of age. His wide, frightened blue eyes reminded Splinter of Michelangelo.

"Who… are… you?" the old rat rasped.

"Da name's Cameron," the boy replied. "Leonardo said not ta follow 'im, but I reckon it's a good t'ing I did. Him an' Casey got their hands full wit' these guys. Come on, I gotta get you outta here. Yer Raphael's Pa, ain't ya?"

"You… know my son?" Long association with Michelangelo allowed Splinter to follow the boy's rather erratic train of thought.

"He's waitin' fer us in da truck. He's hurt, but he'll be ok. Come on, now we gotta get ya outta here." The boy's thin arms came around Splinter's shoulders, lifting him up. Splinter winced, but allowed the boy to help him to his feet.

Moving as swiftly as his battered body would allow, he and Cameron slipped out an unguarded door. Cameron hurried him along, glancing fearfully over his shoulder every few steps. They were halfway across the street when Splinter heard heavy footsteps pounding on the pavement behind them. He half-turned, preparing to defend the boy with his last breath.

"Whoa, Splinta'," Casey Jones' rough voice made the rat relax from his fighting stance. Big hands scooped him up unceremoniously, almost causing Splinter to strike out from pure instinct. "Sorry, Masta' Splinta'. We gotta _move,_" said Casey. He dashed forward, Cameron on his heels. Splinter heard shouting behind them, and the _clang_ of Leonardo's katanas. Casey lifted the elderly rat up into the open door of a truck. Splinter's nose wrinkled at the scent of fresh and dried blood, and the lingering odor of infection, but his black eyes widened at the sight of the dark-skinned turtle hunched in the seat.

"Raphael, my son…" He leaned forward, gingerly embracing the turtle. A young man on the seat beside Raphael groaned, his blue eyes snapping open and going wide at the sight of a huge rat. He closed his eyes again, quite pale. Splinter noticed he bore a striking resemblance to Cameron, before the boy himself piled into the front seat, sandwiched between Casey who was already behind the wheel, and Leonardo who dove into the truck, slamming the door behind him.

"_Drive!" _ the blue-banded turtle shouted. Tires squealed, and Splinter was thrown to the side as the truck lurched forward, putting distance between them and the crowd of Purple Dragons still shouting behind them.

"Raphael, my son," said Splinter, tears wetting the fur on his face. "It is good to see you again. We feared we had lost you."

Raphael grinned. "Nah, Master. Ya can't get ridda me dat easy."


	27. Chapter 27 Checkmate

**A/N: Oh, Mikey, it's gonna be ok.**

Here's Juan, in case you were wondering where he went. There will be one more chap to wrap things up with a little twist (Heh, Karma's gonna bite Hun) and then the epilogue and thank yous.  


**Reviews are loved, as always. And Holy Hannah, 250+ reviews?! *sniff* Thanks, guys. I honestly don't know what to say.  
**

**

* * *

**_Chapter 27 -Checkmate-  
~~~_

Michelangelo curled himself into a ball as best he could with his hands still bound behind his back._Sure wish I was still little enough to pull into my shell. I guess Bishop'd just cut me out again, though. _

He shuddered at the thought. Unwilling tears traced down his cheeks. _Man… I'm done for. I just hope they don't get any of the others… April, I'm so sorry. I got you into this and I let you down. And Master Splinter… Father… I wish you were here. Well, not _here_, I wouldn't want Bishop to get you, but… I'm gonna miss you, Sensei. At least… if that Dragon wasn't lyin'… maybe I'll be with Raphie again. If you're gone, Raph, I don't wanna live anyway… I just wish it wasn't Bishop… wish it wasn't gonna end like this. Shredder hated us but at least dying in a fight, with honor… it'd be quick…_

Michelangelo tried desperately to steer his mind away from this train of thought, but images of Bishop's laboratory flashed, unbidden, through his mind. He huddled close to the smooth wall, curled up and trembling, and waited.

***

Juan Mendez counted himself lucky. He'd taken the opportunity, when the truck stopped moving, to slip out of the back where he'd been hiding and disappear down an alleyway. He watched, amazed and terrified, as Billy's little brother came out of the building, supporting what looked like… a huge rat? Juan blinked and rubbed his eyes, but the rat was still there, wearing a robe and limping as fast as it could toward the truck.

Juan gasped when a huge guy came out of the warehouse, a hockey mask over his face. He ran up to the boy and his burden, scooped the rat up, and dashed back to the truck. Soon a sword-wielding turtle followed, and they tore off down the street, followed for a short space by a hoard of angry Purple Dragon gang members. Juan shrank back into the shadows. He wouldn't want to be discovered here.

"Hey! How come yer not inside, helpin'?" The voice made him jump.

"I… uh…" He turned to see an angry young man watching him with hard eyes. A purple lizard tattoo snaked up the man's neck and across his face.

"Come on. Those mutants injured half of us. We need all the hands we can get. Hun's gonna _explode_. We gotta get the place cleaned up 'fore his big deal gets here!"

"Umm Ok." Dazed and terrified, Juan let himself be led into the warehouse. He shook as the door clanged closed behind him, certain it was sealing him in to his doom. The scene before him was one of carnage. Everywhere he looked he saw injured, unconscious and bleeding gang members.

"_Mi Dios_… What happened?"

"Those _mutants_. Come on, Paul's pretty messed up. We're gonna hafta take 'im ta da hospital…" Juan watched, swallowing hard, as two Purple Dragons slung a third, unconscious, onto a makeshift stretcher. His right leg hung at an odd angle and the side of his face bore a distinct and darkening bruise. Juan was glad the guy was unconscious, for his sake.

"Hey, hey you. Come 'ere. Hold pressure on dis…" Juan felt someone grab his arm and was dragged over to a girl. She was kneeling. A boy was holding a wadded up rag against her thigh.

"Get offa me, Derrick! Go help da others," she snarled.

Juan knelt beside her, catching a whiff of her shampoo. Her hair was long and dark, curling around her face. "Let me help you," Juan said softly, putting his hand over the shirt. Derrick, apparently satisfied she was in safe hands, got up and went off to assist more of the injured. The girl drew a sharp breath as Juan leaned forward, keeping pressure on the still-leaking wound. "I will take you to a hospital," he said softly.

The girl shook her head, her teeth gritted. "I'm _fine._"

"You're hurt. Please. Let me help you. What is your name?" Something in Juan's soft voice made the girl look up. He caught his breath. Her eyes… He'd never seen such a shade of brown in his life. _Like a deer, so soft I could get lost in them,_ he thought.

"What do you care?" she asked, but her tone lacked venom.

"You are too beautiful for dis place," he whispered.

She stared at him, shocked. "You're crazy."

"No. You… you are _un ángel_."

"It's Serena…" Suddenly the girl's eyes narrowed. "You… you're not a Dragon," she whispered. Juan rocked back on his heels, alarmed. She reached up, catching his arm in an iron grip. "Hush," she said. "I can get ya outta here, but you gotta take me wit' you." She noticed his confused stare. "I've had enough o' these fights. I want _out_."

"O… ok," Juan stammered.

"We can't go yet. It'd look suspicious," she whispered. Every instinct in Juan was screaming at him to run, to run as far and fast as he could, out of that warehouse, out of the district, out of the _city_, but her hand still held his arm in an iron grip.

"Help me up."

He had no choice. He put an arm around Serena's shoulders. She leaned on him, and it occurred to him that her leg had nearly stopped bleeding, and she was acting more badly injured than she actually was. "What're you _doing?_" he hissed.

"Saving your sorry hide," she responded. "That way. Toward the offices." Juan helped her through a door. With all the chaos outside, they went unnoticed.

"Good. This is good," she said, sinking into a chair. "Now. You gotta ride?"

"No." Juan thought with passing regret about his brother's truck. For all he knew, he'd never see it again.

"Ok. We gotta get a cab. No cabbie's gonna come to this part o' town," she mused. "We're gonna hafta walk for a few blocks, mebbe get a bus."

"How're ya gonna walk on dat leg?" asked Juan.

"You're gonna hafta patch me up," Sarena met his eyes. He saw anxiety there, warring with something else… a grief… almost a… longing.

He knelt beside the chair and touched her hand. "Ok," he said quietly. "Just tell me what you need me ta do. I ain't gonna leave ya."

***

Casey Jones swerved, barely missing another parked car. Leo's hands were threatening to become permanently embedded in the dashboard, but he didn't comment on Casey's driving.

Suddenly, he pointed. "There! That's got to be Bishop's." The tires squealed as Casey unceremoniously applied the brakes. He and Leonardo piled out of the car, taking off for the unmarked black eighteen-wheeler at a dead run. Raphael struggled to move in the back seat, but Splinter put his hand on his son's shoulder.

"No, Raphael. You cannot assist your brothers. You are injured!"

"But Sensei, it's _Bishop_. They're gonna _need_ me!"

"No, Raphael." Splinter leaned forward, using his weight to pin Raphael against the seat, no easy task. The turtle squirmed but didn't push him off. Cameron looked fearfully over the front seat.

"He's right, Raphael. Ya gotta listen ta yer pa," he said.

"Cameron, those are my _brothers_ out there! An' dat Bishop's a killer! Let me _up,_ Sensei!"

"Raphael!" Splinter put both paws on Raph's shoulders and looked directly into his eyes. Raph sat back against the seat, his breath catching in his throat. He'd rarely seen Splinter so angry. "You would endanger your brothers. You are injured. They cannot protect you and fight Bishop as well. _You must stay here._"

Tears slid down Raph's cheeks. "Yes, Master Splinter," he whispered, ducking his head.

"Please, Splinter, Sir, don't! Don't hit him!" came a quavering voice from the front seat. "He… he just wants ta take care o' dem."

Splinter turned, shocked. "I do not strike my sons, young Cameron," he said rather stiffly. The boy remained half-turned in the seat, facing them, but his gaze was firmly down.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Sir. I… I thought…"

"Cameron," rasped Raphael. The boy's head jerked up, but he met Splinter's eyes and looked away with a shiver. Raphael, released from Splinter's grip, reached up to touch the boy's shoulder. Cameron looked up. "Cameron, not all fathers are like yers. Splinter ain't gonna hurt me, and he aint' gonna hurt _you._" He met Splinter's confused gaze with a wry smile. "Sometimes he gets mad at us, but he… he's a good father."

***

Leonardo drew his katanas as he ran. His fury was already stoked from the fight with the PD's. He'd come so close to losing his brother, and his father, in one day, but he'd gotten them both back. He wasn't about to stop there. He wanted his other brothers as well. The first guard went down without a sound. Two more fell to Casey's hockey stick before they realized the danger that was upon them. Leo's katana sliced through the lock on the door of the truck, and it swung open, pouring light into the interior.

Inside, Leonardo saw not one, but two steel boxes. At first glance, they appeared to be completely smooth and impenetrable. A closer inspection revealed a numbered pad attached to one side. Leo growled low in his throat. A slice from his katana barely scratched the metal surface. Desperate, he started punching numbers into the pad. Nothing. He tried another sequence. Still nothing. A third… And a red light began flashing ominously on the pad.

"You really don't want to continue doing that." The ominous voice made Leonardo whirl, crouching.

"_Bishop._"

"It's nice to see you again, Leonardo," said Agent John Bishop, leaning casually against the door of the truck. Leo darted forward with a cry, aiming to skewer the man with his katana. Bishop dodged aside, a move Leonardo expected. He completed a flip, and landed, spinning to face the insane government agent once more. Leo circled, his katanas at the ready. Bishop smiled.

"Now, Leonardo," he said softly. "Surely we can talk about this."

"Let my brothers _go,_ Bishop," snarled Leo.

"I think not." Bishop was so busy gloating he didn't see Casey Jones creeping up behind him, hockey stick raised. He had no clue from Leonardo's carefully still gaze, but a rustle of fabric must've given Casey away. Bishop swung around with a vicious roundhouse kick, catching the big man in the ribs. Casey was thrown back several feet and landed with a sickening _thud_.

Bishop leaned down, snatching up Casey's fallen aluminum baseball bat. Leonardo took the instant of distraction to attack. He very nearly caught Bishop on the side of the head with a flying punch, but the man ducked, so that Leo's fist just grazed his cheek. He jumped backward; giving Leonardo the space he needed to try a swinging kick close in the wake of his fist.

Bishop couldn't dodge quickly enough and Leo's foot connected solidly with his chest. He staggered back, but straightened and took a fighting stance. "You can't beat me, _Turtle_," he hissed. Leonardo circled, looking for an opening. He knew better than to rush the man, even with the advantage of his katanas. Previous fights had proven Bishop to be a worthy opponent.

Behind Bishop, Casey was getting to his feet. The glint in his blue eyes told Leonardo he was ready for round two. Without hesitation, Casey threw himself at the man's back. Bishop didn't so much as turn a hair. He ducked as Casey swung, grabbing his arm and vaulting him over his shoulder. Casey gave a startled shout as he flew threw the air. Leonardo dodged, just avoiding being plowed down by the human missile. There was a crash behind him as Casey came to rest, and a groan. Leo glanced over his shoulder. Casey was lying on his back. A gash on his head was pouring blood, but he was moving, trying to sit up. Leonardo's attention snapped back to Bishop just in time. The man had gotten closer, too close. Leo flipped backward just as Bishop flicked his wrist, sending a small knife through the air with deadly accuracy.

"Missed, Bishop," Leonardo growled.

"I won't miss a second time," growled Bishop. He drew out a small pistol. Leo froze. "Enough games, Turtle." Bishop leveled the gun at Leonardo.

_I won't have time to dodge,_ thought Leo. _I've got to rush him. It's my only chance… Don, Mikey, I'm so sorry. _

He ran at the man, crossing his katanas in front of him. He never reached Bishop. Out of nowhere, a red and green blur crashed into the man, knocking him to the ground. Raphael's war-cry echoed through the city, trailing off to a moan of pain. Leonardo checked his forward progress just in time to avoid tripping over his fallen brother.

"_Raph!_ Are you ok?"

"Yeah, Leo, I'm doin' jus' great."

"Raphael!" Splinter's angry cry rang out as the old rat hobbled toward them.

Raph turned, meeting Splinter's furious gaze. "Sorry, Sensei. I didn't mean ta shove ya like dat. I had ta get out. He was gonna shoot Leo."

Splinter smiled. "For once, my son, I am grateful you did not obey me."


	28. Chapter 28 I'll Take Care of You

**A/N: Do you believe in love at first sight? I do. And happy endings, those are good, too.**

**

* * *

**_Chapter 28 -I'll Take Care of You-  
~~~_

Donatello stirred. _Oh shell, my head _hurts_. _He sat up, wobbling slightly, and wished he hadn't. His head felt as though a pile driver was pounding it into the ground. A noise outside made him open his eyes, but the inside of the box was still as black as the darkest night. He swore mentally. _Bishop. Now what? How'm I gonna get out of here?_

"Donnie? Mike?"

_Leonardo?_

"Leo!" Don's voice was hoarse, and he was wracked by a coughing fit. _Darn drugs, my mouth feels like I've been eating cotton…_ He tried again. "Leo, in here!" He punctuated his cry with a bang on the side of the container.

"Donnie! Are you ok?" His oldest brother's anxious voice just penetrated the container.

"I'm fine." Don's voice grew stronger. "Get me out, Leo!"

"I'm trying. There's a number pad on the side of this thing. I don't have the code. What do I do, Don?" Leonardo's voice was strained with desperation.

"Is there a panel?"

"… yeah."

"Open it. Find the wires."

"… Ok."

Don heard metal grinding outside, and the _creeeeaak_ of a panel bending. "Leo, do you see wiring?"

"Yes."

"Ok, what colors?"

"Red, blue, green, black, white, yellow, orange…"

"Ok, just a minute. What's attached to what?"

"Umm… the red and black are attached to a… box thing. And the yellow and green go up inside a tube. The white… It kind of goes off to a side…"

Donatello rubbed a tired hand over his face. "Leo, cut the blue wire," he said.

"Don, are you sure? When I hit the wrong code, a light started flashing…"

"Leo, cut the blue wire _now_!" Don's voice took on urgency. He heard a _click_ and a _hiss_, and held his breath.

_If Bishop's booby-trapped the containment units… It sounds as though he has, with that red light. If Leo cuts the wrong wire… _

The crack of light appeared once more, blinding him. Donatello made it to his feet and staggered toward the opening. "Leo…" He fell forward, feeling himself held up by his brother's comforting embrace.

"You're ok now, Don. Come on, I've still got to get Mikey out." He started to lead Donatello forward, catching him again when he swayed. Leo's eye-ridges rose. "What's wrong with you?"

"Tranq… Bishop…"

Leonardo swore. "It's gonna be ok, Don. Casey!" he called.

"Right here, Leo." Casey Jones appeared at the back of the truck. Donatello's eyes widened. Casey looked like he was wearing a gory Halloween mask. Blood from an obvious cut on his scalp had dripped down most of one side of his face, and was drying there. His chin and cheek sported blackening red bruises, and Don was certain his nose was broken by the position and swelling.

"Come on, Donny," said the man good-naturedly. "Let's get you outta there…" He helped Don down from the back. Leonardo went back into the truck, repeating the procedure on the second containment unit. Those outside heard a high, keening cry as the box opened.

"No! No, leave me alone!"

"Mikey! Mike, it's ok. It's me, Leo… Come on, bro, you're safe now, get up. Let me get these ropes off... Oh, Michelangelo… what'd they do to you?"

Leonardo appeared in the doorway, his brother's arm slung over his shoulder. Michelangelo looked dazed, his blue eyes wide. His face was bruised and the bandage had fallen off his stitched arm, revealing torn stitches and more bruising. Blood was pooling in obviously fresh rope burns on his wrists. He was trembling violently.

"L… Leo?" he whispered, looking full into his brother's face for the first time as they stepped out into the light. "Is it… really you? I'm not… dead yet, am I?"

"No, Mikey. You're fine," said Leonardo gently. He leaned forward, supporting Mikey and lowering him down to Casey and Raphael's waiting hands. Michelangelo took one look at Raphael and burst into tears.

"I knew it… I knew it… Bishop killed me," he sobbed. His arms went around Raph's shoulders, causing the older turtle to grunt with pain. "I don't care, Raphie… I don't care if we're dead, as long as we're dead together!"

"Mikey, ya bonehead," Raphael growled. "Ya ain't _dead_. But yer gonna be if ya don't get offa me."

Ignoring their older brother's threats, Donatello moved close, wrapping himself around his brothers. "You're safe now, Mike," he told the youngest turtle gently.

Michelangelo looked at Don, then at Raph and back again. The terrible expression of fear and confusion eased, a slow smile taking its place. "What took you guys so long?" he asked.

Leonardo shook his head. "Come on, Casey," he said. "I need your help."

Together, they lifted the unconscious figure of John Bishop up from the ground, and slung him none-too-gently into one of his own containment units. They stuffed the rest of the guards into the second unit and closed the truck doors.

***

April was beginning to worry. Splinter had left her over an hour ago, and had not yet returned. She was just psyching herself up to attempt walking to the nearest pay phone to call a cab when an unfamiliar truck pulled up. April's breath caught in her throat as it stopped at the alley where she was hidden. A man hopped down, and hurried toward her. She almost screamed before she recognized the battered face of Casey Jones.

"Come on, Ape. We gotta get outta here," he said.

"Casey! What happened? Are you ok? Where's your shirt?"

"Leo needed it fer a bandage," he replied. Seeing her eyes widen, he shook his head. "Everybody's good, April. We got some injuries, but we're all gonna be ok."

For once, April didn't protest when the big man scooped her up. She laid her head against his sweaty shoulder, hardly noticing the dirt that caked his bare chest. He carried her to the already-full truck. "Sorry, Babe. Yer gonna hafta sit in my lap," he said with a smirk. April blushed crimson, but her sharp retort was stopped short by a familiar chuckle from the back seat.

"_Raphael?_" She twisted, peering past the young boy sitting next to Leonardo, to stare over the seat. Raph's golden gaze met her eyes calmly. Splinter sat next to him.

"Hiya, April." Raph's eyes held a glint of mischief. "Sorry fer da cramped quarters. Don and Mikey had ta ride in da back."

"You got Mikey back?"

"Yeah, Ape, he's shook up, but he's gonna be ok."

April smiled through her tears. "Oh, Raph… It's _so_ good to see you."

"Aww…" Raphael smirked, but the blush creeping up his cheeks belied his expression.

"Come on," said Leonardo, pulling the truck carefully away from the curb. "Let's go home."

***

Serena drew a hissing breath as Juan tightened the rag he was tying around her injured leg. He glanced up, meeting her eyes. "Sorry."

"No, I've got to be able to walk on it. It's ok," she said through gritted teeth. Juan tied the last knot, and helped the girl get to her feet. "Come on," she said softly. "Let's get out of here."

Juan took her weight, marveling at the strength he could feel in her arm clamped around his waist. They made their way down the hall, away from the general chaos in the main part of the warehouse. They came to an open door, and Serena paused.

"Wait."

Juan fidgeted as the girl hobbled over to the office, and stuck her head in. "Oh, man… Sullivan," she said softly. Juan looked over her shoulder. A man was lying against the wall. At first, Juan thought he was… but no, his chest rose and fell steadily. He was merely unconscious. Juan slipped into the room behind Serena. A voice in the hall made him whirl.

Serena swore under her breath. "Quick, in here." she grabbed his hand and dragged him through another door. It led to an adjoining storage room. They crouched together behind a dusty crate.

"Have you got the money, Hun?"

"Yes."

"Good, good. Here's the sample merchandise I promised…"

Juan peered out from behind the crate. He could just make out the men through the cracked-open door. A huge, blond man was standing at the desk. A much smaller, swarthy man stood on the other side, holding out a pistol. It disappeared into Hun's meaty paw.

"These will do just fine," Hun said, smiling grimly. "I'd like to examine the rest of the shipment."

"Fine. As soon as I receive payment…"

"First we unload," said Hun. He picked up a black leather case from the corner and opened it, showing the man the contents.

The man was scowling. "Our agreement was cash on delivery," he said.

"You'll get your money when we get the truck unloaded," said Hun smoothly, closing the bag and setting it down.

"If you double-cross me, Hun…"

"Don't worry. Sullivan here will guard your payment." The men left the room, chuckling like a pair of old friends.

Juan let out a breath he hadn't been aware of holding, and got to his feet. He pulled Serena up. "Come on, _muchacha_. We gotta get outta here."

"All right."

In the doorway, Juan hesitated. _They're buying guns. I should do _something_. But what can one _hombre_ do?_ His eyes landed on a second black bag in the corner. _Mamma's medicine is so expensive,_ he thought. Almost without thinking, his hands snaked out, picking up the bags. He tucked one under his arm, holding the other by the handle. He held out his free hand to the girl.

"Come on, _senorita_, he said to Serena. "Let's get you to da hospital an' get dat leg fixed up."

"I _tol'_ you, I ain't goin' ta no hospital," snapped Serena. "I ain't got no money fer da hospital."

"I'll take care of it," said Juan with a smile. The handle of the bags holding the money had a nice weight in his hand. "I'll take care o' _everyt'in_ from now on."

Serena looked up at him. Slowly, her suspicious gaze was replaced with a tremulous smile. She tucked her hand into Juan's, and leaned on him as he led her away from the warehouse.

"How about, later on, I take ya back ta my place?" said Juan. "I… I'd like ya ta meet my sister. And my Ma."

"What? What if she don't like me?" asked Serena, suddenly shy.

Juan looked once more into those deep brown pools, and felt his breath hitch in his throat. "Oh, don't worry," he said softly. "She's gonna _love_ you."


	29. Epilogue

**Short A/N: Just a bit of brotherly fluff to wrap things up with a bow. Long A/N includes Thanks to the reviewers follows at the end. Cyber-cookies for all! :)  
**

**Look for the upcoming One-shots, _Happy Endings_ and _Raphael's Revenge_ and see my profile for summaries of my upcoming fics.  
**

**Please note, I'll be going on vacation for a couple weeks, so my next chapter fic will not appear until sometime after the 25th of July.  
**

**

* * *

**_Epilogue  
~~~_

Leonardo watched his brother move across the dojo. Raph's leg was still healing, but since his cough had subsided Don had ok'd him to use the punching bag for some "light training."

"Raph…" Leonardo trailed off as the amber gaze snapped to his face. "Just… take it easy, huh, bro?"

"Yeah, Leo." Raph smirked. "I know. Don't worry. I won't give Donny any more ta worry 'bout."

Leonardo grinned. "Well, between you, April, Splinter, Casey, and that kid Billy, he's been busy these past couple weeks."

"Yeah… Well Ape wasn't _so_ bad. Her fingernails'll grow back, right?" Raphael stopped and stood, enjoying the novelty of actually having a conversation with his brother about someone _else's_ injuries for a change.

"Yeah, Don says she'll be fine. She saved Mike's hands you know," said Leonardo quietly. "She tore her fingers up getting those ropes off his wrists. Don said if the circulation was cut off for much longer..."

Raph shivered in the warm room. An image of Michelangelo, his hands amputated, flashed through his mind. He shook his head to banish the thought. _No wonder Mike's havin' nightmares… They're gettin' better tho. He only crawled inta my bed twice this week. _

"Yeah. An' Splinter's ribs're healin'…"

"Splinter's not as young as he was, but he's getting better every day," said Leonardo. He, too, seemed relieved to change the subject.

"How's Billy doin' since Don took dat buckshot outta his shoulder?" asked Raph.

"Well, I don't think he's quite over the whole "mutant" thing yet," said Leo with a smirk. "Every time Don gets near him, he turns kind of pasty."

"Well, he an' Cameron can go as soon as Don ok's him to use dat arm," said Raph.

"Are _you_ going to be ok, Raph?" asked Leonardo. Raphael shot his brother a glare.

"Whataya talkin' about?"

"You're kind of… attached to that kid, Raph."

"I'll be fine, Leo. He's got his brother to look out fer him."

"Yeah. I guess he does," said Leonardo with a knowing smile. He watched his brother cross the dojo and take a few light swipes at his punching bag.

_And you've got your brothers, to look out for you_, he thought. _Anytime you need us, Raph, we'll be right here for you. That's what brothers do._

_*end*  
_

_

* * *

_**I am honored, and thrilled to have the opportunity to thank my faithful readers and reviewers for following this fic to the very end. I've been overwhelmed by your responses. Over 250 reviews... What can I say, but... _wow_.**

**Another thanks to my beta-readers, _54Viruses_ and r_aphfreak_. You gals ROCK, and this fic wouldn't have been half as well written without your suggestions, corrections and input. **

**I'd like to send a big plate of cyber cookies to the following:  
**

**_54 Viruses _for being such a patient beta-reader and erasing my extra commas and apostrophes :)**

_raphfreak _for the plot-bunny which started this insane fic and many of the ideas which dropped Raph straight into trouble. (Translation- if Raph asks, this story was ALL KATIE'S FAULT!) LOL

**And to the reviewers:**

**_AlyssaFelixa_ (hope I got the spelling right this time!!) for hating cliffies ;)  
_Ramica _for insightful, detailed reviews  
_Nightwatchersunknowngirl _for enthusiasm  
_YoTicTac13 _for having faith in the happy ending  
_Dark Rose-Karma _for making me laugh with her reviews  
_candlelight_ for writing such fun chibi-fics and for glad tidings  
_little miss reaper_ for faithfully following the story  
_Wildfire2 _for popping in with kind responses  
_LilNinjaWolf _for being such a faithful and consistent reviewer  
_Keemew2 _for looking forward to review-responses and being brave enough to call Raph an idiot. LOL  
_MelodyWinters_ for being an artist extraordinaire  
_Kyaserin Marii _for consistently fun-to-read reviews  
_Polaris'05 _for noticing details  
_TigerToa_ for wanting to take Cameron home  
_xHitsulover._ for the shortest (and nicest) review I've ever recieved  
_MewSakura_ for a kind review  
_Scotia60 _for appreciating medical research  
_JDanielle _for spreading the love _  
Reepicheep22 _for having the coolest screen-name _ever_  
_Sait4soreyes_ for trying to scroll past the last line. heh  
_Jemand_ for kind reviews****_  
Raphfan_ for reading  
_Kiwimiwi_ for wanting the story to go on  
_Scribe of Turesa_ for asking for more  
_Krueger84_ for doubting Raph's ability to stay out of trouble,  
and finally,  
_Willowfly_ for tactful honesty, willingness to talk, and for giving this fic a chance despite her misgivings. :)**

**Thank you all so very, very much. I hope you'll enjoy the upcoming one-shots, (my first!) and I will miss you all while I'm away for a few weeks, vacationing with my family and attending a writers' conference at Montrose, Pennsylvania. (Anyone else going to Montrose?!! Send me a PM!)**

**See you all at the end of July! I'll be starting a series of romances, beginning with _Mikey in Love_. (You can see my profile for summaries) This series will be the most ambitious writing project I've ever attempted, and I'm very excited about them!**


End file.
